


Peaches

by 014469



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (in the past), Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Companion AU, Companion!Bucky Barnes, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lord!Steve Rogers, M/M, No Sex, No Smut, No dubcon between steve and bucky, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Rape Recovery, Sex-Repulsed Character, Sexual Slavery, canon-typical trauma, standard post-winter soldier trauma warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-19 23:29:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9465410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/014469/pseuds/014469
Summary: After the death of his mother, Steve withdrew into himself somewhat. He became quiet and introverted, and despite still running his lands with the same thorough mind and sense of justice that his mother had, he was growing unhappy with himself. The castle was a lonely place to live without ones’ family, after all, and Steve wished for nothing more than someone with whom to share his life. Steve did not even have a Companion, something that was rare among young men his age. A Companion may have eased his physical isolation, and it was tradition for Lords and Ladies to always have their gilded Companions around as status symbols and favoured pets, but Steve had never believe himself to be able to own another human being – the thought of it just made him shiver.AU where Steve is the Lord who helps Companion!Bucky recover from past abuse with lots of fluff and falling in love.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Heed the tags, people! More explanation in the end notes. 
> 
> Warnings: past abuse, past sexual slavery, past rape. I have tried to deal with these in a sensitive manner but please please do let me know if there is anything in here that you feel I have not treated with respect.

Lord Steven Rogers became the Knight of the Shield Lands on his twenty-first birthday, four months after the death of the previous Knight of the Shield Lands, his mother Sarah. The Shield Lands were the swathe of fertile golden farmlands which swept the western side of the Kingdom and produced some of the Kingdom’s best edible potato crop.  
Lady Sarah Rogers had been a kind and gentle ruler of the Shield Lands, and it was hoped by everyone that her son, Steven, would prove to be the same sort of just and fair master. Lord Steven, or Steve as he was known, was a contradiction of a man. Tall, muscular and fair, he was at once mercurial and kind, protective of others while reckless regarding his own safety; it was said that he was painfully awkward and shy around other members of noble society yet he was open and friendly with the people who worked and lived in his castle. 

After the death of his mother, Steve withdrew into himself somewhat. He became quiet and introverted, and despite still running his lands with the same thorough mind and sense of justice that his mother had, he was growing unhappy with himself. The castle was a lonely place to live without ones’ family, after all, and Steve wished for nothing more than someone with whom to share his life. Steve did not even have a Companion, something that was rare among young men his age. A Companion may have eased his physical isolation, and it was tradition for Lords and Ladies to always have their gilded Companions around as status symbols and favoured pets, but Steve had never believe himself to be able to own another human being – the thought of it just made him shiver. Besides, a cold castle, a Lord in mourning and a land bereft of leadership was no place to bring a high-status Companion, one who was used to a life of comfort and pampering, so Steve refused all attempts to get him someone to share his life with for the four long months between the death of his mother and his investiture as Lord of the Shield Lands. 

~~~~~

On the day of his investiture, Steve slept late. He’d been up the night before, unable to sleep and feeling crushed under the weight of the responsibilities he was about to officially shoulder. This investiture would bind him to his lands; the lives and livelihoods of every being in the Shield Lands was now his responsibility. It was a lot to take in, but Steve was stubborn, and although he could have handed the title of to a distant relative, he was not the kind of person to run away from a challenge. 

His best friend Sam brought him breakfast on the morning of the investiture. It was a nice gesture, but Sam was disturbed by what he saw as he entered the bedroom without knocking. Steve was lying in bed, eyes screwed shut in an attempt to stop the tears from squeezing out from underneath the lids and breaths coming in fast, one fist clamped over his mouth to try and silence the sobs. Sam sighed when he saw this, put the breakfast tray down and returned to comfort Steve. With his arms wrapped around the larger man in a gesture that would have been awkward had the two of them been any less comfortable with each other, Sam was the older brother that Steve had never had and certainly did not deserve. 

‘Steve. Are you listening to me, Steve?’

Steve turned his face towards Sam but did not open his eyes. 

‘Steve? You can’t hide forever.’

‘Yeah, I can.’ 

Sam chuckled. ‘Do you remember what your mother used to say when you got low? “You always get up” – remember she used to say that? Today is one of those days when you need to get up, Steve. You’ve woken up in charge of a whole lot of people who are looking to you for leadership and guidance. You’re a symbol of hope and stability to those people just like your mother was. You can do this Steve. For her, for you. I know you can.’

Steve opened one eye and wordlessly took Sam’s hand, gesturing that he understood but was not able to reply just then. They stayed like that for a long time, still and silent and joined at the hand, until Steve’s valet came to dress him and they sprang apart, not wanting the new Lord to be seen in a moment of weakness on the day of his investiture.

Once bathed and dressed in what Steve privately thought were the most ridiculously-gaudy investiture robes anyone had had to wear ever in the history of investitures, Steve finally worked up the courage to look at his reflection in the mirror. Steve and mirrors had a complicated relationship. They never quite showed him anything worth seeing no matter how hard he looked. He always saw the same short, skinny body with a complete lack of muscles, stick-legs and twig-arms covered in bruises, needle marks and old scars which he had acquired after a lifetime of refusing to give up both in the training-yard and on his sick-bed. Even now that he had filled out and grown up, being tall and solid, he still saw the sickly young man he had been whenever he looked in the mirror.

He was dressed in the blue robes of his house with the red, white and blue shield-and-star emblem above where his heart was. There was a red belt cinched tightly around his waist – the tanner had had to make new holes just to stop it slipping down around his slim hips – and his hands were hidden behind wide blue sleeves with the shield and star embroidered into the bicep. Fine cloth made from thread spun and woven in his lands wound around his shoulders and hung down to the small of his back, looking more like a shawl than the cape it was intended to be. His valet, Loki, was currently scowling as he crawled around Steve’s ankles trying to lengthen the hemline of his robe without making it look like the hemline had just been lengthened. Loki was squinting and sighing every time he had to put another pin in the heavy velvet, take it down another inch here or let out the chest there as though Steve was one big inconvenience sent directly to ruin Loki’s day. All in all, Steve felt like a dancing monkey about to be sent out to entertain other people. He had been told where to stand, how to walk and what to say in endless rehearsals which his Master of the Household, Phil Coulson, had insisted on practicing over and over again ad nauseam until Steve was sure he could complete the Investiture Address in his sleep, but he still worried about messing up and disappointing Phil. He always worried about messing up and disappointing Phil. 

Waiting to go into the Hall so that his investiture could start, in front of the assembled Lords and Ladies as well as members of the common classes that Steve had insisted be allowed to attend the ceremony against tradition, Steve’s nerves almost overcame him. Thoughts of failing to protect his lands and his people were foremost in his mind, growing like a cancer that he could not ignore, taking up space in his brain until it pushed all rational thoughts aside. Steve’s breath became short and he had to ask Phil for a moment alone while he leaned into a side table, ignoring the supporting arm that Phil offered him. What sort of ruler was he if he couldn’t even keep his own body under control? Even though he was only rarely sick these days, the fear of weakness and fragility was still strong in him  
There was no more time for him to worry, however, as the doors in front of him opened, he took a step forward, and was immediately engulfed in the wall of sound emanating from the crowd. Steve walked down the aisle towards the raised dais where he would be officially knighted and given his titles to thunderous applause, which made something brave and strong flutter in his heart. On the familiar faces that he knew were people whom he lived and worked alongside were expressions of relief and hope and trust. Kneeling there to receive his knighthood, one knee bent and his eyes on the floor, Steve made himself a promise to live up to the legacy of his mother and to devote himself to the wellbeing and protection of his people. 

Steve went through the motions of the investiture ceremony without really noticing the pageantry, then took his seat at the head of his table for the first time as official leader of his lands. He was dazed and overwhelmed and truly exhausted from wearing the heavy robes all day, but he still had the receiving of his investiture gifts and well-wishers to get through. It was tradition for other nobles to send gifts, promises of help and pledges of friendship to new Lords and Ladies, and Steve had insisted that the people who lived on his land be given the chance to come and greet him as well, so he could shake hands and get to know his people a little better. The line of well-wishers stretched out the Hall door and never seemed as though it would end, but slowly the Hall emptied as the long shadows of sunset began to creep in. Lords and Ladies sent gaudy envoys who recited poems and read letters of support aloud, placing the gifts from each part of the kingdom at his feet. People who lived on his lands, some of them rich merchants and others poor farmers and vagrants, came to shake his hand and offer their pledges of loyalty. Some could afford to bring gifts, some could not. Some of them looked like they could not afford to give away anything yet still gifted him their finest produce. Steve felt guilty at the thought of the castle cellars overflowing with food gifted by starving people, and murmured an instruction to Phil that the gifted produce be used to provide meals to the hungry and to fill the winter food barns of the poorest areas. Tradition dictated that he could not refuse a single investiture gift, or else be thought of as rude and ungrateful. Just as Steve thought he was done for the day and was about to stretch his aching legs and give instructions for all the gifts of food to be moved down to the kitchens and all the fine jewellery, linens, musical instruments and ornate tapestries be taken to his housekeeper Peggy, the doors to the Hall opened and in came Phil Coulson accompanied by two men. One man, a tall, strong-looking man with a burn scar down the side of his face, was wearing the colours of a man in the employ of Lord Pierce of the Vale of the Hydra. The other man was… 

He was beautiful. He was also unmistakably a Companion. Young and lithe, skin polished to perfection and dusted with bronze and gold powder so he gleamed in the evening light, skinny for a Companion and only a few inches shorter than Steve. There was a gilded collar at his throat attached a leash held in the hand of the taller man. The Companion’s hair fell down to his shoulders, a glossy brown with scented oils combed through so strong that Steve’s nose twitched even from his position on the dais. The Companion was bare except for a loincloth made of the lightest material which was fastened provocatively around his slim hips, and Steve could see the wink of rubies hanging from his pierced nipples. Every inch of his body was hairless except for the hair on his head, and he walked with a lithe grace that made Steve envious. His head was bowed so Steve could not see his face but he was sure it would be every bit as beautifully tended to and made-up as the rest of him. Despite all the gilding though, Steve frowned when he caught the edges of the Companion’s ribs outlined in the long afternoon light from the window and the hunched way he walked. Steve leaned forward to motion to a servant to fetch Sam right away. 

Phil announced that the man was an envoy from Lord Pierce, and then the taller man stepped forward, tugging the leash to make the Companion follow at his heels. Following a small motion of the man’s hand, the Companion sank to his knees in front of him, still keeping his head bowed. Steve felt faintly sick.

‘Lord Rogers, I present this Companion as a gift from Lord Pierce as a wish to grace your castle with beauty. This Companion is fully house-trained by the Academy, of which Lord Pierce is a patron, and he was hand-picked to please Your Lordship.’ Here the man stopped talking and stepped a little closer to the Companion.

‘Would Your Lordship like to examine the Companion? His Lordship has expressed no doubt that this man will give excellent service and pleasure.’

Steve felt a tidal wave of anger and confusion swelling inside him. Despite Phil’s eyes urging him to politely accept and carry on as though nothing had happened, Steve stood and walked down from his perch towards the two men. As he approached them he heard Sam slip into the room behind him. Reaching the men, Steve stopped and took a good look at the kneeling Companion. This close, he could see that the man was broad-shouldered and had probably once been thick-waisted, but that he looked underweight. Steve knew that Companions were expected to look beautiful at all times, and he wondered whether this one had been taken sick to look so skinny. 

‘Is it normal for Lord Pierce to trade human beings as though they were cattle?’ Steve asked, a clipped tone to his voice. He thought he saw the Companion flinch at the word ‘cattle.’ The taller man smirked and put one hand on the Companion’s head. 

‘This one is a gift sent to please you, as Lord Pierce is aware that you have no Companion of your own. You are a Knight now, Lord Rogers, and a Companion is a well-respected mark of your station.’

‘A Companion is a person, not a toy. I may not have had a Companion before but I know that much. Tell me your name, please, and hand me the Companion’s papers.’ Steve was aware that he was being ruder than he should have been for a new Lord receiving a gift from one of the most powerful houses in the Kingdom, but he was a little repulsed at the man’s casual treatment of the kneeling Companion. Companions were meant to be treated with respect the same as any other human being, even if all they were used for was to be a status-symbol and a bed warmer, as some other nobles thought. Lords had Companions though, that was just the way things were done.

The smirking man produced the wax-sealed papers detailing the Companion’s gifting from Lord Alexander Pierce to Lord Steven Rogers and detailed the Companion’s history and temperament. Nowhere was there a clause about the consent of the Companion to be sold, as Steve knew there would not be, nor was there anything about the Companion’s name, personality or likes and dislikes. Steve frowned to himself as he read it. Yes, Companions were pets, but they were also people. Suddenly feeling trapped by the convention which stated that he had to accept this gift and his disgust at suddenly owning another person. In the end, the warring parts of himself both united when he saw the Companion give a tiny, involuntary shiver out of the corner of his eye, and realised that the man had been kneeling on the cold stone floor for over ten minutes. Slowly, moving his hand into the Companion’s vision so as not to startle him, Steve placed his fingers under the Companion’s chin and tilted his face up towards him. Steve had been right – the man’s face was every bit as beautifully made up as the rest of him. The Companion had large grey almond eyes rimmed with smudged black kohl and with gold dusted over the lids, and a straight nose above a wide, pink mouth. A gold ring glinted through the pierced septum of his nose. His eyes were crinkled slightly at the corners as though he was older than he looked, and his lips, smeared with a rosy pink slick designed to look alluring, were pinched together. The Companion refused to meet Steve’s eye as he was examined, and Steve could see the shaking in his left arm getting worse. 

‘Look at me,’ Steve murmured to the kneeling man, and the Companion immediately complied. The force of his gaze was electric, but it seemed as though he was nervous or even scared, his left arm noticeably trembling now so that he had to stiffen it to get it to hold still. That compulsion not to let Steve see how he was hurting decided everything for him in that moment. Steve wrapped a protective hand around the Companion’s bicep and drew him slowly to his feet. The Companion did not so much as wobble, and once upright did not move, only returned to a position with his head lowered and his bare feet together. Steve took the leash from the taller man’s hand and tucked the papers under his arm. 

‘Please convey to Lord Pierce my thanks for this most generous gift and my well wishes for himself and his lands.’ Those were the traditional words, spoken in a rush and with as little emotion as Steve could manage. Pierce’s man bowed low and retreated from the room. The Companion did not watch him go, but as soon as the door closed behind him, he seemed to relax.

Phil.’ Steve snapped out as the other man appeared at his shoulder.  
‘I need a bedroom prepared for my new Companion. A bath, warm clothes, and something to eat. Take him, please.’ Steve’s head was spinning – being given a new Companion was a hell of a responsibility, one that Steve was not ready for. He needed to get the Companion out of his sight long enough to clear his head and figure out what he was going to do about him, but the moment Steve tried to hand off the leash to Phil, the Companion dropped to his knees again and looked up at Steve with sickening terror on his face. His lips were pressed together into a thin line and his shoulders were still shaking but he nuzzled into Steve’s leg. When he spoke, his voice was rusty and low.

‘I am to please only you, master.’

Steve crouched down so he was eye level with the man. 

‘You must be freezing and tired from your journey here. Let me get you warm and fed first of all.’

‘If it pleases you, master,’ came the reply. The Companion dropped his head further in shame. 

‘Please, don’t call me Master. Call me – oh, call me Steve. Everyone else does.’

The Companion looked bewildered at that, as though no one had ever asked not to be called Master before, and that made Steve’s heart give a suspicious little jump. Companion abuse was not widespread, but every once in a while there were… rumours, and Steve was starting to think that something was very wrong with this situation. When he gestured towards Phil again and tried to explain that the Companion should follow him, the man’s face showed pure terror for a moment before it was schooled into a blank expression. 

‘Ok, you don’t have to go with Phil. Come with me, then.’ Steve stood and the Companion stood after him. Steve unclipped the leash from the Companion’s collar, then after a second thought uncollared him completely. Steve could just make out a faint scab from where previous collars had rubbed or been too tight under his gold body paint. The second the collar was off, the Companion shifted, just a tiny sigh and slight slump of the shoulders, but it sounded like a release of tension. Steve smiled at the Companion and he tensed again as Steve took his arm and led him away. 

~~~~~

While waiting for a bath to be filled, Steve wrapped the Companion in as many warm blankets as he could find and gave him a drink of water. The Companion seemed a little confused when Steve asked him to sit on the bed in the room hastily prepared for him, an annex off Steve’s own, and kept trying to take a seat on the floor at Steve’s feet. Pulling him bodily up onto the bed, Steve wrapped his arms around his Companion in a gesture of what he hoped was protectiveness, but the Companion kept trying to slide off the bed and made little distressed noises when Steve attempted to get him to sit back up again. Eventually, Steve let the Companion rest at his feet in the traditional position, and put one hand on his head. Taking the more traditional positions seemed to calm him, a thought which made Steve feel even more nauseous than he had been.  
Taking on the more traditional roles and positions seemed to help calm the Companion, and he leaned into Steve’s leg as they both sipped water. 

‘Can you tell me your name please?’ Steve asked. 

‘You may call me whatever pleases you, mas-Steve.’

Steve thought about this. ‘What would you like me to call you?’

The Companion tipped a confused expression Steve’s way, and wrinkled his nose. 

‘You may call me whatever pleases you –’

‘That’s not what I asked.’ Steve’s voice may have been a little harsher than he intended, for the moment he spoke the Companion flinched away from him. Steve was rapidly coming to the conclusion that he was dealing with a Companion whose past was murkier than it should have been. 

The Companion licked his lips as they formed a soundless shape. A name spoken so silently he could hardly hear it.

‘Say that again?’

‘Bucky,’ the Companion repeated, just loud enough for Steve to hear.

‘You wish me to call you Bucky?’

Bucky nodded. 

‘Then that is what I will call you. Come on, Bucky. I think your bath must be ready by now.’

~~~~~

Steve would look back at that first evening and wince in pain every time he thought about it. Bucky had stripped naked to get in his bath, and once in the water had sat there with an expression of extreme shame on his face until Steve had asked if he wished to bathe in privacy. Then he’d looked terrified and only replied that he would do whatever Steve wished, which seemed to be his default answer when asked a direct question. From his body language, Steve had assumed that Bucky would want his private time, so he’d allowed him to bathe in peace while Steve himself paced his bedroom and wondered if he was reading this situation all wrong. He was becoming more and more convinced that Bucky had been abused by a former master, although he had no idea how to broach the subject with him. In the meantime, Steve remembered the promise he had made at his investiture to protect every one of his subjects. That now included Bucky, and Steve made it his mission to keep the man from being hurt again. He had no idea how to proceed, having never owned a Companion before, let alone dealt with a victim of abuse, but he trusted his own instincts and those of the people around him to help him guide Bucky to recovery. Steve sought out the advice of the person he trusted more than anyone to give him sound guidance. Sam advised him to be patient and gentle and respectful, which Steve thought he could do even if all he wanted was to keep Bucky wrapped in blankets and tucked into his side. 

When Bucky had left the bath on the first evening, which had taken a very short time, he had silently crossed to Steve’s bed and knelt by the foot, still naked and with his hair dripping. Bucky had mumbled something about being ready for Steve now, then turned and presented his ass while crossing his wrists behind his back and letting his chest support his weight on the floor. Steve, sickened, had immediately pulled Bucky to his feet and told him gently that he would never be expected to present to him that way, nor would he ever be expected to perform a sexual act to which he did not consent. The confused expression that Steve was beginning to dread had spread across Bucky’s face at that, and even more so when Steve had led him to an annex off Steve’s own room, which was to be Bucky’s bedchamber. Although connected to Steve’s room by a small door, the room also had its own separate entrance, and all the doors were lockable from the inside. Steve hoped it would make Bucky feel safer, although he admitted it wasn’t much. Sam and Phil had not had much time to prepare it, but the bed was sturdy and the blankets warm. There was a fire heating the stone room and a rug on the floor. A pot of tea and a tray of fresh pastries sat on the small vanity table in the window, smelling invitingly of warm butter and spiced fruit. 

‘Your own bed, your own space. There are clothes in the wardrobe for you and you may have as much food as you wish. My bedroom is just through that door, please ask me if there is anything else you need. I’ll let you sleep now.’

Bucky had stayed silent as Steve left, but he couldn’t help overhearing the broken sobs emanating from Bucky’s room after he closed the door. When Steve went in an hour later to check on his Companion, Bucky had cried himself to sleep on the bare floor underneath the bed. The food was untouched. Steve’s heart ached for Bucky as he brushed hair away from his tear stained face and gently covered him in a blanket before leaving again to go to his own bed. Steve lay awake and thought for a long, long time that night before sleep took him. 

The next morning, he woke to the sound of another’s breathing. Bucky was kneeling at the foot of his bed as he had done the night before, wrists crossed behind his back. He was silent, but looked expectant. All thoughts of sleep now gone, Steve ripped the covers off, ignoring Bucky’s flinch, and crouched next to him again. Bucky looked flawless, every inch of him buffed and bronzed as it had been yesterday. His hair was fragrant, his eyes lined with kohl. As yesterday, Bucky was dripping with the expensive adornments common as status symbols among the Companions, and was dressed only in the loincloth, shivering slightly in the coldness of the room. He looked perfect and put together despite the early hour.

‘What’s this?’ asked Steve, trying to keep his voice calm. 

‘Good morning Sir – Steve. I’m sorry.’ Bucky hunched away from him slightly.

‘What are you sorry for?’ Steve was a little confused. 

Bucky kept his face absolutely blank as he replied, ‘You asked me to call you Steve. I did not comply. I am sorry – I – I am ready to comply.’

Steve sighed and folded his arms across his chest. He caught and held Bucky’s gaze, completely level, completely kind. 

‘That was a mistake, was it not? You are new here, you can’t be expected to be perfect straight away.’

Bucky blinked once in what might have been confusion.

‘But – I – but I –’

‘You know you don’t have to kneel for me, Bucky? I don’t expect you to be by my side every minute.’

‘But – a Companion is always ready to serve!’ blurted out Bucky, eyes a little wider than normal. From out of the corner of his eye Steve caught sight of Bucky clenching his fists behind his back, but as soon as Bucky noticed him look he stilled them. Steve moved, very slowly, watching Bucky’s face as he did so, and rubbed the palms of his hands up and down Bucky’s upper arms, warming up his chilly skin. He tugged slightly on them and Bucky wordlessly uncrossed his wrists and brought them around so that his hands were folded in his lap. 

Steve sighed. ‘I know what a Companion is supposed to do. But you’re in a new place now and you need to learn my rules. I don’t want you to kneel for me every morning and as I told you last night, you don’t need to present yourself for me unless that’s something you want. I want you to be happy here with me. Can you tell me, Bucky, one thing that would make you happy?’

Bucky stared back at Steve, eyes wide and disbelieving. Very, very quietly, he said,

‘I will do whatever you wish. If you wish to honour me with a gift I will accept it gratefully.’ Then he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out, waiting for something. Steve flinched.

‘No! Not that kind of gift!’

‘I’m sorry! I thought – I am not a gift I am yours to command, of course – I only…’ Bucky started but then broke off, whole body trembling. Tears squeezed out of the corners of his eyes. 

Steve immediately felt like an idiot. He’d raised his voice in shock and anger, and now he’d made Bucky think that he was mad at him. He gently used a corner of his nightshirt to wipe tears from the corners of Bucky’s eyes, then took his Companions soft hands in both of his own.  
Cajoling Bucky into speaking was an exercise in precision. It seemed like Bucky constantly second-guessed himself in attempting to anticipate his master’s needs. 

‘One thing, Bucky. One thing that you want while you’re here.’

Bucky stared back at him, and for a moment, Steve thought he might have gotten through to the frightened Companion, but Bucky only replied, 'I only want to serve you, Steve.’

With a sigh, Steve straightened up. Bucky was obviously not ready to voice his own wants, and even though it sickened him, he would respect Bucky and take things at his pace. With a muttered explanation that they were going to the training yard, Steve helped Bucky to his feet and together they left the room. 

~~~~~

Bucky had never been more scared in his life. Not when he’d first been given away, not when he’d been traded, not when Lord Pierce had beaten him and starved him and threatened to kill him. Lord Rogers was far, far scarier than all of those things combined because of how he made Bucky want to like him. Bucky had been in the castle for less than a day, but he was already messing things up. Master – Steve – had told him that he wouldn’t hurt him, that he was safe. This was undoubtedly a mean trick to get him to relax, then when the beating came it would hurt all the more for being unexpected. Steve had told him to eat, had teased him with food laid out in the room that was unexplainably his, but had not allowed him to kneel at his feet and be fed by his hand. Bucky had been too terrified to touch the food without being fed, suspecting it to be a trick; he had learned the hard way what happened to greedy boys who stole food they weren’t allowed, and had known for years that it was only allowable to eat from his masters’ hand and with his masters’ permission.  
Then Steve had reacted badly to Bucky’s offer of his mouth on the first morning. He couldn’t understand why – he’d prepared himself so well, wanting to make a good first impression. He knew that his make-up was flawless and his breath was fresh. He’d even outlined his mouth in liquid lipstick so that it would make a pretty gold ring around the base of Steve’s cock when he thrust it into Bucky’s mouth, something that he had learned his masters liked. He must have made a mistake somewhere, got something wrong, or maybe he was just that unappealing that Steve was too disgusted to fuck him. He knew that his body was the only way to judge his worth, and Steve rejecting his body meant that he was not good enough. He would try harder. 

Bucky wondered when Steve was going to let him eat as they sat at the breakfast table the morning after he’d arrived. He had protested strongly when Steve tried to get him to sit at the table, because a Companion’s place was on the floor. Steve had eventually allowed him to kneel on the floor like he’d tried to, but had then merely placed his food in front of him on the floor. Was he supposed to eat like a dog? Bucky looked up at Steve and weighed the possibility of punishment for moving without permission against the possibility that he was supposed to know what to do without being ordered. Either one would end in pain – either he obeyed his training, kept still and went hungry, or he moved without permission and got a slap. In the end, he settled for looking up at Steve with pleading eyes, unable to voice the swirl of confusion inside him. Steve certainly wasn’t the first master to withhold food, but he was the first one to do so while claiming that he was keeping Bucky safe. No, this must be Bucky’s fault. He had not pleased his new master – this was punishment for his mistake this morning. He would be more silent, more beautiful, more available. Perhaps Steve was one of the ones who liked to take him when he least expected it? When he was tight and unprepared so it would hurt more? That seemed possible after how he’d rejected Bucky’s fumbling attempts at pleasure the night before and again this morning. Perhaps Steve wanted him to struggle so that he could feel powerful. He wouldn’t be the first master to get off on that. 

Bucky was so caught up imagining all the ways he’d failed that he didn’t hear Steve’s question the first two times. Somehow, Steve’s calm, deep voice broke through the haze of his hunger-weakened brain. 

‘Bucky? Are you with me? Bucky, I asked you if you were hungry. You haven’t touched your food.’

Bucky licked his lips. His traitorous stomach gave a growl, and Steve raised an eyebrow.

‘You are hungry. Why don’t you eat anything? Is there something else you’d prefer?’

‘No!’ Bucky hadn’t meant to shout, but the memory of being force-fed after he’d refused to eat in protest at Lord Pierce’s treatment of him, years ago when he still had the will to do such things, made him panic. He tried again – perhaps he was supposed to ask out loud? 

‘Do – do I have your permission to eat, Steve?’ Bucky looked up with big, hopeful eyes. 

Steve’s brow crinkled – had he said the wrong thing? But then Steve reached down and took Bucky’s plate onto his lap. Without another word, he picked up a piece of fruit and held it out so that Bucky could take it delicately from his fingers. This was what he’d been waiting for, and he relished the sweet juices as he chewed and swallowed. Steve’s face after that first bite was pinched and angry and Bucky knew he’d done something wrong again, but he carried on feeding Bucky pieces of fruit and sweet bread until he’d eaten everything on his plate. It was far more than Lord Pierce had ever allowed him to eat, and his poor stomach felt bloated from so much food. Steve frowned at him again and Bucky cringed for the slap – he’d been greedy, he’d taken too much – but it never came. Instead, Steve reached over the table and brought a glass of cool water to Bucky’s lips, letting him drink his fill. Oh-so-gently, Steve wiped away a drop of water from Bucky’s chin, and for a moment he almost felt like a proper Companion, petted and fed and safe, before he remembered that he was a disappointment and good only to be used up and passed on. 

The first day was a strange one for Bucky, the castle full of people who, strangely enough, insisted on paying attention to him and greeting him wherever he went. He did not like the attention, and he liked it even less when people tried to shake his hand. Previous masters had not liked other people touching their property and had beaten that lesson into him. He had figured out that he was the only Companion in the place, so there were none of the usual furnishings around. Companions were usually given the best quality silk sheets to sleep on, soft cushions on which to kneel kept in every room, and jewellery and gems and gold and other markers of their status as valuable property. Steve had none of these things, and he had not been permitted to bring anything of his from Lord Pierce’s castle so he only had what he’d been wearing on the day he’d arrived. Before the end of the first week, however, Steve had sent for a merchant and bought enough of his soft pillows and blankets to equip an army; but they all went into Bucky’s bedroom. 

‘Companions need a nice place to rest.’ Steve explained sheepishly when he caught Bucky watching him fluff up a plush silk pillow. If Steve wanted to fuck him on silk sheets to make him feel better, that was fine by Bucky. 

On his second day with Steve, just after they’d finished with their new breakfast ritual of feeder-and-fed, Sam arrived to whisper something in Steve’s ear. Bucky was a little suspicious of Sam; he hadn’t quite worked out what his position was in Lord Rogers’ household. He seemed to be somewhere in between Steve’s best friend and his trusted advisor, certainly not a servant but not a Lord either, from the way he dressed. The way that Sam watched Bucky, like he was a wild animal about to lash out, didn’t help their relationship. Bucky wondered if Sam was as suspicious of Bucky as Bucky was of him. After Sam had whispered in Steve’s ear, though, Steve thanked him and looked down at Bucky kneeling patiently on the floor. Steve had insisted he kneel on a cushion even though he might get food on it, and Bucky was immensely grateful for the softness underneath his knees and shins. 

‘I’ve got some presents for you, Bucky. Will you go to your room and wait there for me while I fetch them?’

Bucky bowed his head and stood, heart thumping wildly. This was the moment, he was sure of it. This was the moment when his new master would start to beat him, or maybe fuck him. “Presents” never meant anything good. Still, Bucky was an obedient if not totally willing Companion so he did as Steve ordered – no, he hadn’t ordered, he’d… asked? Or at least, he’d phrased the order like a question so that he’d seem more reasonable. Bucky knew that trick. 

He knelt by the side of his bed, feeling strange that Steve would ask him to wait in his own room. He didn’t dare put down a cushion, so his knees ached on the floor. Maybe Steve would put one down for him if he was very good. 

Steve entered the room and immediately frowned at the sight of Bucky. Not good. Bucky wondered if Steve had meant for him to present himself to his master on the bed, face-down-ass-up like he’d tried the first night. But then, what if Steve didn’t want that and was greeted by the sight of Bucky’s unattractive body? Bucky broke into a light sweat contemplating all the ways he might have tripped up, but Steve merely twitched his fingers at Bucky, beckoning him closer. Bucky knew how to do this. He leant forward and crawled to Steve’s feet. Looking up through his lashes, he saw the faintly horrified expression on his master’s face and flushed in shame. Steve knelt down – no, masters weren’t supposed to kneel – and put a hand on Bucky’s right shoulder. 

‘Bucky, sweetheart, I didn’t mean for you to crawl for me. You didn’t have to kneel, either.’

‘I am sorry, Steve. I am ready to comply.’ Bucky tipped his head down respectfully. Steve… did not punish him. When Bucky looked up again he was still staring at Bucky’s face with that horrified confusion that Bucky was learning so well. 

‘You misunderstand me, Bucky. This is your space, this is your room. I brought you in here because I wanted you to be comfortable, just us. I’m not mad at you, you didn’t do anything wrong. Please, sit on the bed with me.’

Steve helped Bucky to his feet, steadying him when he lurched sideways, and sat them both down, himself a respectful distance away from his Companion. Steve reached into his clothes and brought out a package wrapped in bronze silk. Shyly, he offered it to Bucky, nodding at him to open it. 

It was jewellery. Lots of jewellery. Gold hoops to fit his ears, nose, nipples and belly, the finest filigree bangles and necklaces which would sit lightly on his body and not scratch, glowing sapphires and emeralds set in gold rings and made to emphasise his slim fingers, rings and cuffs and chains for his wrists, ankles, hips, neck and toes. They were beautiful, and must have cost a pretty penny. Bucky stared down at them in shocked silence. Next to fucking him, gifts of gold and precious gems were one of the main ways to show a Companion how much they were valued and praised. Wearing expensive jewels and being able to show off your master’s wealth were coveted symbols of a Companion’s status and comfort. Bucky had been given jewels before, of course. His masters had wanted him looking perfect whenever they were out in public, but taking them away had been a punishment for wrongdoing. Everybody knew that an unadorned Companion was a mark of sin and punishment. 

Bucky looked questioningly into Steve’s eyes and attempted a little watery smile. His own eyes were nearly brimming over with tears, for what felt like the thousandth time since he’d arrived, and he didn’t want to seem ungrateful. 

Steve dipped his hand into the silk and brought out a slim torque of twisted gold and bronze. It was pliable, the firmness of wire, yet still held its shape. Steve smoothed one finger over the twists of the metal circlet, open-ended so that it could be slid on and off the wearers’ neck. He could take it on and off by himself if he wanted to, but it wouldn’t fall off if he pushed the end closer together. On each end of the torque was a small metal ball, one gold, one bronze. They were polished to a dull shine like the rest of the piece so that the whole thing gave off a subtle glow. Compared to the rest of the jewels, it was a plain piece. There were no gems, no engravings. Just two pieces of metal wire twisted around each other so tightly there were no visible spaces. 

Steve moved a hand up to brush Bucky’s collarbone. 

‘I thought –’ he started, seeming a little unsure of what he was going to say, ‘I thought – I know that Companions are given collars as symbols of ownership, but – when you arrived and you were wearing Lord Pierce’s collar, you seemed glad to have it off. I know you have to have a collar but I thought that this – well, you and I can both put it on you and take it off you, whenever you want. You don’t have to wear this all the time, you don’t even have to wear it when it’s just us. It can be something just to show to other people, so everyone knows who you belong to, if that’s all you want to wear it for. But – if you want, this can be your collar. For now. If you like it. You don’t have to say yes.’

Crying for real now, relief and fear and gratefulness and confusion all at once, Bucky nodded his head and stuttered out a reply through his tears, letting Steve know that he would wear the collar. Steve bent the wires out of shape to fit it around Bucky’s neck, then brought the ends back together, leaving the metal balls only an inch apart and resting either side of his collarbone. It was not tight, more like a necklace than a collar, and the metal quickly warmed to the temperature of Bucky’s skin. As far as collars went, this one was the best he’d had in a long time. Steve hugged him, then pulled back to admire the fit of his new collar, a faint smile on his face. 

~~~~~

It had been three weeks and Steve still hadn’t raised a hand to him. Hadn’t done anything to him, in fact, and the tension was wrecking him. Every day, Bucky performed the necessary rituals, making sure that there was not a blade of hair on his body, covering himself with perfumes and bronzing his skin, slathering cover-up over the scars on his left arm, checking in the mirror for any tiny imperfection, checking that his collar sat perfectly (he never took it off, despite what Steve had offered), adorning his ears, nose, nipples and bellybutton with every jewel he possessed to try and make himself more pleasing to Steve, but the Lord was still somehow disappointed in him. He made no move to take him, and rarely ever touched him. When he did, it was the gentle press of a hand to guide him somewhere or move him out of the way, never a slap or a pinch or a kick. It was… confusing, and Steve was the most confusing man he’d ever met. Bucky stayed by his side, kneeling at his feet like a good Companion while Steve went about the business of his court, always on hand in case he was needed. He never was, though. It seemed as though Steve had no idea what to do with a Companion, and Bucky reminded himself that Steve had never had a Companion before. He must be confused about what Bucky was there for – a pretty smile to show off to his friends and a loose hole to fuck whenever he was needed. As long as Steve didn’t fuck him, that meant he was disappointed with Bucky, and Bucky was running out of ways to make himself look more attractive. He starved himself, trying to tighten the lines of his slender body, he rubbed perfumed oils into his skin twice daily, he never spoke and never showed the strain and hoped against hope every morning that today would be the day that Steve showed Bucky he’d done a good job by bending him over and fucking him. As the weeks wore on, Bucky tried harder and harder even as the hope died a little more every day. 

~~~~~

Bucky had been in the castle for five long months before something happened to propel Steve into his bedchamber after dark. Steve had been out riding his lands and had returned late. It had started to rain heavily while he was out and Bucky was almost beside himself with worry that Steve’s horse would slip and he’d be hurt and in a foul mood when he returned. Bucky hid himself away in his room and waited for Steve to march in and beat him to make up for his bad day. By the time Steve returned, however, it was late into the night and Bucky had given up hope that his master would visit him, so he’d started to take off his make-up and adornments. 

Steve returned a little after midnight, having been riding hard to get back after helping to fix a burst dam that had flooded a cornfield in the southern corner of his lands. The families who kept their winter crop barn on the flooded field would now be without food for themselves and their livestock until the spring. Steve would have to find some money to take care of them over the rest of the winter. Knowing that Bucky got nervous being left alone for a long time and hearing from Sam that he’d retreated into his room the moment Steve had left, Steve had rushed straight into Bucky’s bedroom when he returned, thinking only to reassure his nervous Companion. 

Bucky shrieked when Steve came in the door – this was it, and he wasn’t ready! He’d taken off the make-up that he wore and pulled out his piercings – he wasn’t beautiful, he wasn’t fit to be seen like this, and the scars on his left arm were visible where he’d removed the gold dust paint he always wore. Hiding under the bed was worth the beating Steve would give him when he realised that Bucky was not ready to be fucked, as he should be. Heart hammering, Bucky scuttled back under his bed to the furthest reaches of the wall. He watched as Steve’s boots clumped around to the head of the bed, then moaned in misery as Steve bent his legs, crouched, and eventually lay flat on his stomach to look at Bucky as he scrambled back even further. Bucky tried to explain, because this wasn’t fair, if Steve had only told him he’d be expected to be fucked that night he could have prepared himself, but this – Steve would see him, really see him without his adornments, truly naked for the first time, and Bucky shook in terror. 

Steve, however, did not look as though he was going to fuck Bucky. He reached out a hand towards the dark corner where Bucky hid, and made his voice as soft and gentle as he could. 

‘Hey, I’m sorry I scared you. I only wanted to make sure you were alright, Sam told me you’ve been in here for hours. Please come out, I promise you’re not in any trouble.’

Bucky only hunched further under the bed. Steve reached one arm above the mattress for a second, before he dragged one of the warmest blankets off Bucky’s bed and passed it down to him. 

‘Here. It’s cold under here, huh? Why don’t you come out, and then you can tell me what’s wrong.’

That was an order, no matter how pretty it was dressed up. Bucky slowly pushed himself towards Steve’s outstretched hand and let him take it, let him pull Bucky back up into the light of the room. Bucky wrapped the blanket around his body so that Steve would be spared the sight of him naked and unadorned, and sat in the place Steve patted on the floor.  
Bucky couldn’t help himself – he burst into tears. 

Steve sighed, then did something truly unexpected. He slid off the bed himself and joined Bucky on the floor, put one arm around him and cuddled Bucky into his side. With the other arm, he reached around and stroked Bucky’s soft hair, petting him and rocking as he waited for Bucky to calm down. 

‘Hey, hey sweetheart, don’t cry, it’s alright. Everything’s alright, Buck. I promise. Hey, look at me – what’s wrong, hmm?’

‘I – I don’t – I didn’t realise that you – you – you might want to see me tonight. I’m not ready for you – I’m sorry!’

‘Oh, Bucky,’ Steve sighed, and placed a warm hand over Bucky’s cheek, ‘you don’t have to keep yourself ready for me all the time. You always make such an effort and you always look so beautiful, but I know you can’t wear your gilding all day and night. It’s ok, you haven’t done anything wrong.’

Bucky thought hard about that. It seemed like… it almost seemed like Steve was saying that… 

‘You mean you don’t want me to prepare myself for you? You wish to enter me… dry?’

‘No!’ Bucky flinched as Steve yelled, before lowering his voice and giving Bucky a comforting pet. ‘I will not enter you as long as you do not want it, and if you never wish to be taken by me, then I swear to you that I will never force myself on you. No member of my court will do so, either.’ Steve added as an afterthought. 

That was a hell of a statement, and Bucky almost couldn’t believe his ears. Never be entered? Never have to feel the sting of being penetrated by an uncaring cock or fingers, never have to have his mouth filled or be strapped to the bed and used for hours – was that really what Steve was promising? It couldn’t be – could it? Bucky thought back over the past few months. That wasn’t how it worked, in his experience. Fucking was something that a master just… did to you. You didn’t have to like it or choose it, because it wasn’t for you. It was for them, for them to have somewhere tight and warm to hide their dick. Bucky dared to break his training and make eye contact with Steve, hiding the rest of his face under the blanket. Fucking was a reward, wasn’t it? 

‘I do not understand, Steve. How have I failed you so that you do not wish to enter me at all?’

‘Bucky… oh, Bucky, no. Baby, that’s not what I meant at all. You haven’t failed me, you’ve been wonderful, all the time. But I can tell that you do not wish to be entered by me. I know I’m right in thinking that, and before you assume you know what I’m thinking, I didn’t mean that as an accusation. It is fine, it is perfectly alright to wish to not be penetrated. A good master respects the wishes of their Companion, and if you tell me that is what you wish, I will honour that.’

This had to be a joke… didn’t it? Bucky would take the chance, and face his punishment if this was some kind of cruel trap, just for the opportunity of telling Steve the truth, just this once. 

‘I do not wish to be penetrated. By anyone. For now.’ He kept his eyes down as he said it, aware that he was trapped against Steve’s big body and could not escape the punishment – but it never came. Instead, Bucky found that Steve was smiling down at him, eyes creased and tiny from the force of his cheeks pushing up, and for the first time, Bucky noticed how blue those eyes were. His mind stopped running through all the locations of his concealed knives, which he’d hidden in his bedroom in case he had to defend himself from unwanted night-time visitors who were not Steve. 

‘Then I will not penetrate you. No-one will ask any kind of sexual favours of you, for as long as you want. You have my word on that.’

‘But why?’ Bucky blurted before he could stop himself.

‘Because you don’t want to. Because I want you to be happy here and that means asking for things that you want, or don’t want. Because you please me when you ask for things. Because you deserve to have control over your own body.’ 

Bucky could think of no good reply to that, but before he had to, Steve scooped him up, blankets and all, and deposited him in the middle of his bed. His smile turned playful and warmer than ever. Bucky wanted to see more of it, would do anything to have such a smile turned on him every day.

‘Now, I hear that you’ve been sleeping underneath this thing. Tell me, Bucky, are the blankets not to your liking?’

Bucky squeaked, ‘No, I mean – yes, they are – fine, Steve, I just…’ he paused, carefully sorting out the words he should say, ‘a Companion’s place is on the floor.’

Steve’s face darkened at that, and Bucky feared he’d gone too far, but Steve gave him a reassuring if tight smile and replied, ‘Not in these lands. While you are my Companion, your place is by my side, unless there is somewhere you need to be. No more sleeping on the floor, no more sitting at my feet. You eat at my table and you sleep in this bed. Those are orders.’  
The playful smile was back in place, so that meant Bucky must have done something right. As far as orders went, sleeping in an actual bed with blankets and sheets and a real mattress was not a harsh one. Eating at the table, however, not sitting by Steve’s feet… that one would take some getting used to. It was an order from his master, though, so he had to obey it. 

Bucky nodded and would have replied had his face not been almost split in two by a loud, sudden yawn. Caught off guard, Bucky had no time to be embarrassed before Steve drew away from him, leaving him colder despite the blanket he was wrapped in. Steve chuckled as he piled more blankets on top of Bucky, gently tipped his head forward to place a pillow behind it, and tucked him in so that he resembled a human burrito. Then, slowly, watching Bucky’s face all the time, Steve stroked his hair back from his face and murmured, ‘Goodnight, Bucky.’  
Steve snuffed the candles, collected his coat and left, closing the door behind him and left, leaving a very bewildered Companion drifting off to sleep behind him. 

~~~~~

Steve had never considered that Bucky wouldn’t know not to sleep on the floor. He’d never considered that the reason Bucky ate from his hand was because he was scared to take food for himself. Now that he thought about it, he realised exactly the extent that he’d have to go to make Bucky feel safe and happy. And he was screwing it up already – he’d terrified his poor Companion just by walking into the room. As he lay in his bed that night thinking of Bucky rolled up in blankets for the first time in who knew how long, he cringed at his own clumsiness and ineptitude. He had been so completely unprepared to own a Companion and now he was only making things worse. Still, he’d have to have a long talk with Bucky in the morning. 

~~~~~

The next morning, Bucky emerged from his chambers looking pristine. His hair was slicked back with the right amount of perfumed oil, his eyes looking large and luminous behind their artfully smudged kohl. His beautiful pink lips had been painted over with some sort of glossy golden substance which made them shimmer and catch the light when he talked. His entire body was hairless as usual, and he had dusted the shimmering gold over his arms, chest and shoulders so that every movement created a trail of sparkles in the air behind him. He had also painted intricate vine leaves down his arms and chest using gold paint so that they seemed to sway with the shifting muscles under his skin. He had taken extra care with his adornments, a large citrine jewel hanging in the centre of his forehead and citrine drops in his ears, which complemented his collar finely. Steve flushed in shame at the idea that he might have taken extra care with his appearance to make up for last night. When Bucky emerged, the first thing Steve did was to call him over to the couch in the large bay window of his room and sit them both down. Bucky looked like he was starting to go for the floor until Steve cleared his throat and he stopped himself before tentatively perching on the edge of the chaise. Steve angled his body towards Bucky, took both soft hands in his, and faced his Companion. He wanted to get this just right. 

‘Bucky, I hope you slept well. I want to… talk to you, about last night. Listen to me carefully now, please.’ He paused to let Bucky nod, his face ashen. Steve knew what he wanted to say, he wanted to tell Bucky that he had complete freedom of choice and movement and speech and emotion as long as he wanted to stay with Steve, and that if he chose to leave, Steve would gladly give him his papers and set him on his way. He wanted to promise to defend Bucky with his dying breath and fall on one knee and beg for his Companion’s forgiveness at being unaware how much he must have been suffering, but Steve knew that he had to frame these promises in a language Bucky would understand. He took a deep breath. 

‘Bucky, while you are here, I think it would be a good idea to… share some guidelines… for us both to follow. I already told you last night that no-one will require sexual favours of you unless you are willing to give them. You already know that I wish you to sleep on a bed and eat at the table with me. I wish you to sit by my side while I work in the castle, but while I am away I do not require you to lock yourself away – your time is your own while I am not around. And – you can ask me for things. You can ask me for anything you wish. I may not give it, but you can always ask. I wish you also, as my Companion, to think about what makes you happy, and every day I want you to tell me one thing you’ve thought of. Are you following me so far?’

Bucky nodded jerkily. He looked overwhelmed just by that short speech, so Steve decided to keep the rest of this short. 

‘If I make a decision with which you do not agree, or I suggest a rule which you do not wish to follow, I also want you to tell me. In fact, every day when you tell me one thing that you do like, I wish you also to tell me one thing you do not like, no matter how small it may seem. Can you do that for me?’

Another nod, slightly smoother this time.

‘Bucky, I wish us to be friends. I wish to spend my time with you and get to know you, and I wish for us to trust one another. I see that I have overwhelmed you, and I do not wish to punish you, so I will simply ask you for now if you think that anything I have just said is unfair, that you please let me know.’

Bucky opened his mouth. Then closed it. Opened it again and Steve had to resist the urge to pop his finger in there as he would have done as a child. He waited for Bucky to speak, not moving or pressuring him in any way. Eventually, Bucky dropped his head. 

‘That all seems fair to me, Steve. May I ask one request of you?’

Steve beamed at his Companion, overjoyed that he was finally asking for things. 

‘Anything. You can ask me anything.’

‘Then – you are already so generous, that I – but you said that… might I be permitted to… cut my hair?’ Bucky blushed beet-red under his make-up as he said it, hunching his shoulders and peering out at Steve from under his lashes. Steve felt as though his heart would burst with happiness because Bucky had actually asked for something for himself, and this was good, this was Bucky making decisions about his own body. 

‘Of course you may. I will arrange for the barber to come later today…’ Bucky visibly paled and wrapped his right arm around his left in a gesture of defensiveness. 

‘No! I mean, Steve – you do not have to… I wish to cut my own hair.’ Bucky’s voice was quiet, but firm. 

‘Then you shall. I will fetch the barber’s instruments if you like, and you may cut it however you think best.’

The small shy smile on Bucky’s face was answer enough for Steve, and for the first time since Bucky had come to the castle, Steve felt like he’d made the right decision. 

~~~~~

As the weeks wore on and the seasons turned, Bucky stayed faithful to Steve’s rules. He took to surprising Steve with his one daily like and dislike at odd times. Some days, he would emerge first thing in the morning, whisper his choices in Steve’s ear and then head out to prepare Steve some tea. Other times, he would simply chirp up at a random moment. The first time he tried peaches, Bucky turned to Steve with a smear of sticky juice on his collarbone and simply stated, ‘I like peaches.’ His smile when Steve served him peaches for breakfast every day that week was worth every heart-breaking second of watching a grown man poke at a peach as though it might bite him. Steve took to calling Bucky “peaches” with obvious an fondness and light teasing tone to his voice. Getting him to admit to things that he did not like was harder. For the first few weeks, Bucky’s selections were diplomatically bland, such as ‘I do not like the cold weather’ or ‘I do not like sheep.’ Just as Steve was despairing of ever breaking down the wall between them, Bucky slipped into his room late one night and whispered, ‘I like sleeping in my bed. I do not like being on the floor,’ and swiftly disappeared into his room. After that, it seemed like a dam had broken. Bucky whispered more and more personal things to Steve in the late nights and early mornings. One day after they had been out riding, Bucky whispered to Steve that he did not like horses, and the very next day Steve ordered a small buggy be made so that Bucky did not have to ride when they went out. On the day that Bucky revealed that he did not like being in water, Steve brought a washbasin into Bucky’s room so that he could wash without having to bathe. This went on for several weeks, Bucky slowly revealing more and more about himself as he began to let himself trust that Steve would treat these parts of himself with care. In the wet autumn, Bucky told Steve that he liked to be warm, and that he did not like it when other people touched him, apart from Steve, who he mostly trusted by now not to hurt him. The next day, Steve pulled Bucky into his room and showed him all the new blankets and soft warm mittens and hats and quilts he had got for him, and Bucky teared up at the sight of all the beautiful things just there for him. That day ended with Bucky crying in Steve’s arms as Steve held him gently and wrapped him up in his newest blanket. Steve stayed with Bucky in his bed, on top of the covers and trying not to crowd his Companion, until Bucky cried himself to sleep with relief and pain and hope. 

The winter was long and harsh, and Bucky stayed mostly inside while Steve rode out every day to help the people on his land struggle through winter. Bucky detested snow, ice and rain, and liked nothing more than to curl up in Steve’s library with a book and a cup of tea while he waited for his master to return. Steve, Bucky had learned, was the most hardworking landowner he’d ever encountered. Should his tenants need something, work done or houses fixed, extra food or fences for their animals, Lord Rogers would see that it got done, even if it meant staying out himself in all weathers to make things safe. Bucky secretly thought Steve’s willingness to give away his services like that was a testament that he’d never had his agency forcibly stripped away from him. Bucky himself was delighting in being able to say no to the things he did not want to do, and had amassed a few rules of his own, such as things like ‘Steve does not come into my room without knocking’ and ‘Steve does not make his own tea in the mornings’ which Steve seemed amused by but happy enough to follow. Slowly but surely, Bucky was getting used to being treated like a favoured pet, like a Companion should be. Despite all his training which screamed that Bucky should be the one serving Steve, Bucky learned that Steve loved being able to perform small tasks for him. Steve would bring him hot chocolate and blankets, fix him a snack and bring it to the library, or comb out his hair while Bucky sat in his lap with his legs resting on a soft, plush cushion. It was… different, being the one taken care of for a change. Bucky didn’t know if he liked it, because it certainly wasn’t bad, but he wasn’t sure it was good, either. It was just… different. 

On the coldest of winter days, Bucky appeared in Steve’s room in the morning wearing only a thin linen robe. Since Bucky was afraid of fire, he’d never allowed anyone to build one in his room, but that meant it was constantly cold, and although Steve had told him that he could display or conceal his body as much as he liked, Bucky often reverted to being nearly-naked and ended up shivering and numb. Bucky looked so fragile shivering at the foot of Steve’s bed that without thinking, he lunged up and pulled Bucky down into bed beside him, tucking his Companions’ cold hands between his own. Bucky stiffened, about to open his mouth to remind Steve of his earlier promise not to penetrate him, but Steve got there first. He loosened his hands around Bucky’s and gently explained that he had not meant to startle him, and that he was fully intending to do nothing more than cuddle and warm up his chilly Companion. Steve waited until Bucky nodded his consent before hugging him close. Steve tucked the blankets tightly around them both as Bucky inched closer to Steve’s furnace of a body, slowly losing the tension in his limbs. When he was close enough that his lips tickled Steve’s chest as he spoke, he mumbled, 

‘I like this. I like – being near you.’

Steve at once blessed Bucky with a sleepy smile and pulled his Companion closer so they could both doze off, safe and warm. 

~~~~~

When the last snow cleared and the paths out of the Shield Lands became safer, Steve and Bucky left the castle to travel and see Steve’s friends in other lands. Bucky had been on edge about the trip for days, spending hours obsessing over his looks and bearing so as not to shame Steve by appearing less than perfect before his friends. The first castle at which they stopped, after three days ride in the back of a covered carriage, was the Stark Tower. It was home to Lord Tony Stark, the Iron Knight, and his Companions Bruce and Pepper. Bucky’s first meeting with another Companion since he left the Academy was fraught with the terror of judgement. They were received in a long hallway, Steve standing straight in the middle with Bucky on his left arm. Bucky thanked all his lucky stars that being with Lord Pierce for so long had taught his the proper way for a Companion to behave in public, so he knew to stay silent, walk a pace behind Steve at all times, and always be receptive to his needs. After their reception, in which Steve hugged Tony like a long-lost brother and the sound of their friendly bickering astonished Bucky, they were shown to their room. Their one room – Stark had put Bucky and Steve in the same bed. Bucky drew up at the sight of the massive bed equipped with enough pillows for two grown men to sink into, stopped short in the middle of the room. Steve banged into the room behind him and immediately caught sight of Bucky’s stricken face.

‘Buck? What’s wrong? Is it the bed?’

Bucky breathed out, and remembered the times he’d travelled with Lord Pierce. 

‘I will ask for a pallet. I’ll sleep underneath.’ Bucky knew that Steve wanted him to sleep in a bed at home, but things were different when they were away visiting, and other masters might not understand that much freedom given to such a worthless Companion as himself. Memories of sleeping under Lord Pierce’s bed swirled around him and he imagined himself back there for a long, horrible moment.

‘You will do no such thing! Bucky, you’ll take the bed. I will sleep on the chaise.’

Bucky’s eyes widened in panic, forgetting that Lord Rogers was so different from Lord Pierce

‘A Companion’s place is on the floor, master.’ He sunk to his knees, bracing for the blow, but instead found himself wrapped in a soft warm quilt and scooped up in Steve’s arms – in Steve’s arms? Bucky relaxed – that was right, he was with Steve now. Steve deposited them both onto the elegant chaise in the corner of their room, settling Bucky on his lap and keeping one protective arm around him. Bucky burrowed his face into the blankets in shame at what had just happened, but Steve searched him out and gently lifted his chin. 

‘Bucky, you belong at my side, not at my feet. I will ask Lord Stark if he may prepare another room for you so you can have your privacy.’

Bucky considered this. On the one hand, he had got used to sleeping in a bed again, but on the other hand – to be alone in a room by himself in a strange place was not something he was comfortable with. He wondered – Steve did say he could ask…

‘Could I… sleep here with you, please Steve? Only if it’s what you want, of course, I am happy to sleep on the –’

‘Of course you can sleep with me. I am happy to share this bed with you, but – that will mean you letting me see you… unadorned. Is that something you… would be comfortable with?’

Bucky had not thought of that. He briefly weighed the two options in his mind – sleep alone and preserve his image, or sleep with Steve and let him see what no master, not even Lord Pierce, had been permitted to see since the day he was first sold into Companionship. The accidental incident where Steve had seen him without his adornments did not count, he thought, as it had only really been the top half of his face and only for a few moments, and ever since then Steve had been very respectful of his privacy. At least, Bucky thought, if Steve was going to be disgusted with his unadorned form it might be better to know that now, so that he would be able to change his mind and sleep elsewhere in future. 

‘Alright,’ Bucky eventually rasped out through a dry throat, ‘I’d rather sleep in here with you.’

Something about Steve’s smiling response made Bucky’s heart lift a little in his chest. Steve looked so relieved, like Bucky was doing him some massive favour by letting Steve see him unadorned, when really it was the other way around, and Steve was the one doing him a favour by attempting to overlook Bucky’s unattractive unadorned body so that his stupid, needy Companion didn’t have to sleep alone in a strange place. But that was just like Steve, putting everyone else’s needs before his own. Not for the first time, Bucky felt small and privileged to have such a kind and generous owner. 

~~~~~

When Lords Stark and Rogers took tea together after they’d washed and changed, Bucky tried to slip onto the floor. Only Steve’s large hand on his arm stopped him. Steve jerked his chin over to where Lord Stark was sitting in a chair with one Companion on his lap and the other curled gracefully on the couch next to him. Bucky, ashamed at having nearly been caught out, draped himself on the sofa at Steve’s side, trying his hardest to arrange himself in an attractive manner to show off his master in the best way possible. He was intrigued by Lord Stark’s arrangement – he’d heard of people having more than one Companion before, of course, and some nobles even kept harems, but to actually see the three of them sitting there like equals was still jarring. He tried not to stare disbelievingly as Pepper poured the tea for all of them, including Bucky, Bruce and herself. Then she settled back onto the sofa without even a glance at her master, paying attention to the conversation with bright, quick eyes. 

Despite all Bucky’s training which reinforced that Companions should be silent when their masters are conversing, Lord Stark seemed to prize his Companion’s inputs into the conversation, not even stopping them when they interrupted a few times. It threw his own role into shocking contrast – he’d stayed mostly silent in company up until now out of a belief that maybe Steve would want that, but watching Steve interact with Pepper and Bruce, even watching him and Tony include them all in the conversation as though they were equals, he began to reconsider this. Bucky decided that before they left there he would create a chance to ask Pepper and Bruce about their relationship with Lord Stark, and perhaps he could ask Steve for permission to speak more in conversation? 

Performing in public for hours on end often left Bucky with a headache and an aversion to people, and after an evening spent in the company of Lord Stark and his household, today was no exception. Normally, Bucky would be looking forwards to removing the adornments which custom dictated all Companions wear and burrowing into his heap of pillows and blankets to sleep the night away in blissful solitude. Today, however, he would have to keep on performing until the second Steve fell asleep. Just because Steve would see him with his adornments off didn’t mean that Steve would want him to drop the other behaviours expected of a Companion – the submissive bend of the head and expectation that the master would make all their decisions for them. In fact, Bucky was quite sure that he should be compensating for the removal of adornments by being even more demure and willing than ever, so when the time came for them to go to bed, he took extra time washing and scraping the hair from his body before adding some perfume to his hair, just in case Steve hated the smell of him. He wondered whether he should prepare his asshole, but – no, Steve had promised no penetration, and he trusted Steve to keep his word. Mostly. Sort of. He’d got Bucky in a strange place with nowhere to retreat to though, perhaps today was going to be the day that Steve snapped and started to treat him like he’d always been treated, and the strange little niche of breathing space he’d carved out for himself would collapse in on him. 

Heart rabbiting in his chest, Bucky took a last look at himself in the bathroom mirror. Without the adornments and jewels, his ears, wrists and hands looked bare. His nipples were dark brown and he’d been told they were ugly without the little winking gold rings he always wore, but it was going to be dark and he didn’t think Steve would notice. He inspected his hips – was that a little roll of fat sitting on top of his hipbones? He had been allowed to eat more with Steve than he was before, but Bucky knew that a Companion should be attractive at all times, should be small and cute and easily overpowered. He was growing larger by the day, a layer of softness covering his muscles and blurring the lines of his jaw. Steve might hate it – but Bucky suspected not. Steve had made no comment on his body besides to tell him that he was beautiful, something that Bucky only just allowed to be said. From anyone else’s mouth, that phrase would seem sexual, but when Steve said it, it sounded… reverent. Bucky would bet that Steve would be too polite to tell him that he’d chubbed up since his arrival at the castle. Besides, they’d both be wearing nightclothes. His hair was clean and dry, all the golden beads he usually wore gone so that they did not disturb Steve in the night. He’d scrubbed all the golden dust from his face and body, and meticulously removed every hair. He was nowhere near the standards of perfection to which a Companion should aspire, but it was as good as he was going to get. With a heavy sigh, Bucky pulled his nightgown over his head and pushed open the door to their bedroom. 

Steve was already in bed, the blankets pulled up to his chin, with two steaming cups of something on the table next to him. The room was warm, the fire banked. Steve had left the curtains around the bed open, something that Bucky suspected was done for his benefit. He appreciated the gesture – it was… sweet. Suddenly he had the strange thought that he was relieved that it was Steve he was showing himself to and no one else, before he squashed that thought to the back of his brain and bravely took a step towards the bed. 

~~~~~

While Bucky was in the bathroom, Steve had done everything he could think of to make this experience more comfortable for his Companion. The fire was banked, the light in the room was low. He’d selected only the softest blankets for their bed and had requested that a warming pan be placed on Bucky’s side of the bed an hour before they’d retired to warm up the chilly mattress, as well as the steaming hot chocolate which had been brewed just for them, something he’d noticed Bucky drinking before bed now that he was more in command of his own body. Steve knew that this was a Big Deal for his Companion – in fact, it would be a big deal for any Companion to let their master see them unadorned. It was respectful to a Companion not to look at their bare face unless they willingly showed it to you, respectful of their traditions and their role within the household. The fact that Bucky, his beautiful, soft, unsure Companion, was showing his bare face here out of necessity made Steve feel terrible – but then, Bucky had refused the offer of a separate room. He didn’t like to be alone. 

Steve’s thoughts were interrupted when Bucky appeared from the bathroom wearing his night clothes, and –oh, he was more beautiful than ever with the adornments gone. It was just him, just his little peach Bucky, and Steve couldn’t help but smile and hold a hand out to his nervous Companion to join him in bed. Bucky obediently took a seat on the mattress before swinging his legs up and under the covers. He sighed in happiness at the warmth of their bed, but did not lie down, instead turned to Steve, head lowered submissively. Steve was so lost in appreciating his new found love for the creases at the corners of Bucky’s eyes which he could not see under all the kohl he usually wore, and the way his skin was pale and cool under all the gold dust that he almost forgot about the hot chocolate. After an embarrassingly long time, he turned and passed the cup to Bucky, then took a sip of his own. 

‘Here. It’s chocolate – it’s good, I promise.’

Bucky’s eyes flicked up to his, startled out of submission. ‘For me?’

Steve smiled. ‘Well, I noticed that you sometimes drink this before bed at home, and I thought, well, everything else about this situation is new and strange for you, but this might be… a taste of home.’

Bucky huffed a laugh and took a sip. ‘It’s nothing like the stuff we make at home. Not that I don’t appreciate this! I mean – thank you, Steve. It is delicious.’ Bucky took another sip and closed his eyes in pleasure. 

‘I’m glad you like it. And – thank you, by the way. Thank you for letting me see you… umm, like this… it’s a real privilege.’

‘It is I who should thank you, Steve. You are so kind to me, letting me sleep here with you and… overlooking… my plainness this evening.’

Steve started to tell Bucky that he was anything but plain, that he was the most beautiful person he’d ever laid eyes on, but he stopped himself, remembering where they were. A line like that said in bed between a master and Companion might be too intimate for them, might violate Bucky’s trust that he wouldn’t make sexual advances. Instead, Steve smiled again and took the empty mug back from Bucky. As he leaned over, Steve caught a glimpse of Bucky’s left arm. It was covered in burns and scars, and Steve realised that Bucky must hide it under more make-up than he thought every day. Steve gasped and snatched at the arm, pushing the sleeve of Bucky’s night shirt up to see the full extent of the scarring. Bucky flinched away and pleaded with Steve to let him go, but anger had overtaken Steve’s whole mind and he almost shook as he growled at Bucky,

‘Who did this to you?’

His Companion, though his eyes brimmed with tears, managed to answer, ‘I am sorry, Steve, I know it is ugly, I only thought that –’

‘Bucky, answer my question! Who. Did. This?’ Steve’s anger made him almost blind to Bucky’s tears. In the end, Bucky hung his head in shame and whispered out ‘…Lord Pierce.’

All at once, Steve’s anger left him. He realised that he’d pushed Bucky into revealing some information which was not freely given. He’d made his Companion cry. He was a monster, he was as bad as Pierce, he should be locked away and charged with abuse.  
Steve took his sobbing Companion in his arms and gathered the blankets around them. He rocked them back and forth, not allowing Bucky to wriggle away, apologising over and over again. 

‘Bucky, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry my little peach, I didn’t mean to scare you. You’re beautiful, you’re so beautiful, I promise I’m not angry. Please don’t cry.’

Bucky stopped crying so fast that Steve knew he’d probably forced his tears away. Steve cupped Bucky’s face in his hands and wiped away the tears with his thumbs. 

‘I mean it. Bucky, you are beautiful. All of you. I’m so sorry that you got hurt, sweetheart, but I don’t think any differently of you for it. You don’t have to hide it, I won’t ask you about your arm again. I am so, so sorry.’

Bucky sniffed and freed his face from Steve’s hands. ‘I’ve never told anyone that before. I… it was my fault. I was a bad Companion, I should have listened to him. I know it’s ugly, Steve, but you don’t have to look at it again.’

‘Bucky, whatever happened, I’m sure it wasn’t your fault. No one deserves to be hurt like that, least of all a Companion. Whatever Lord Pierce did to you, I’ve promised you before and I’ll promise you again – you are safe now. I will not let anyone hurt you, and I certainly won’t hurt you either. I’m so sorry I made you cry. Please, will you still stay with me?’

Bucky hacked out a wet laugh. Something about the rawness of the moment – the bare face, the shared bed, the revelation – must have got to Bucky, because he sounded uncharacteristically fond when he next spoke. 

‘Steve, you know you could order me into your bed and I’d never leave. You could order me to stay and yet you ask me – why?’

‘Because I care about what you want. And I… I may be stubborn but I am not a cruel man. Lie down with me if you wish to; if not, I will disturb the whole castle until they find you somewhere private to sleep.’

Bucky giggled at the image of Steve in his nightshirt waking up Lord Stark and leading them all over the castle; Steve thought that might have been the first time he’d heard his Companion give a genuine laugh. 

They lay down in bed side by side, starting off apart but before long Bucky sought the warmth of Steve’s arms. In the dark bedroom, Steve nuzzled his nose into the top of Bucky’s hair, a soft, comforting gesture which had no sexual motives behind it. 

‘Hey, Bucky?’

‘Yes, Steve?’

‘You haven’t told me today.’

‘Oh! Well, I dislike the cakes Lord Stark served us for tea.’

‘Noted. And?’

‘And… I… like sharing a bed with you. You’re warm.’ Steve felt Bucky hide his face after he’d said that, and his own cheeks grew hot in response. 

‘I like it too. I like it very much,’ Steve whispered in reply, not wanting to shatter this fragile moment they were having. 

‘Perhaps… perhaps we could do it again? Back in our own space?’

‘Is that… something that you would like?’

‘I’ve already told you one thing I like today, I don’t have to tell you anymore.’

Was Bucky teasing him? The playful lilt to his voice and the sudden confidence to his speech would seem to confirm that. 

‘Aww, come on. How am I supposed to know what you like if you won’t tell me?’

Bucky giggled again, ‘You’ll just have to guess, won’t you?’

‘I will. I know you like to be warm, and that you like to curl up and sleep in the middle of a heap of blankets… I’ve got it! You’re secretly a cat, aren’t you? I should give you a fish.’

More giggles. They were starting to be Steve’s favourite sound. 

‘Well, you’re half right. I do love cats, or – I think I do. I’ve never actually met one.’

‘Never?’

‘Never.’

‘Hmm, we’ll have to see if we can do something about that when we get home.’

‘You spoil me, Steve.’

‘That’s my job, isn’t it? To spoil my little peach?’

‘I think you have some far more important jobs.’

‘None that I can think of right now.’

Steve lifted his head from the pillow, and felt Bucky do the same. Bucky’s candour was wonderful, like being in the dark together had finally allowed the real, sweet Bucky to emerge from the layers of fear and gold dust and training. Their eyes suddenly met in the dark and Steve could just make out the dance of moonlight across Bucky’s tantalising smile. For a moment, it seemed like Bucky was leaning towards him…  
But he must have been mistaken. Bucky merely dropped his gaze and lay back down with his head on Steve’s chest and his arms tucked between their bodies. They drifted off to sleep wrapped up in one another, both of them realising how lonely they’d been up until now. 

~~~~~

In the morning, Tony and Steve went out riding and left the Companions to their own devices. Back at home, if Steve was out for the whole day it was understood that Bucky was still to be treated with respect, not touched by anyone who was not Steve, and was not expected to be shut away from company for the whole time. It was a rule which had enabled him to learn more about the castle and the people in it, and ordinarily Bucky would have relished a free day when his time was his own to explore. Today, however, he was sitting with Pepper and Bruce in the large, airy conservatory which was set up for their private use. Bruce had explained to a dumbstruck Bucky that no one who was not a Companion, not even Tony, was allowed in here. It was a completely safe refuge and there were penalties for anyone who disobeyed. Bucky was astounded. He had never in his life heard of an arrangement like that, and spluttered when Bruce mentioned it. 

‘But – that means, that if you came in here and refused to leave… would Tony come in here and order you out?’

Pepper winced. ‘Tony would never violate our space, nor would he order us to do anything. Tony’s like Steve, he asks for things.’

Pepper was sitting curled up on the sofa, her long strawberry-blonde hair loose and cascading down her back. Since it was just Companions, Bruce and Pepper had taken off the majority of their adornments, so the small table in front of them was a mess of heavy jewellery and two identical red-and-gold metal collars. 

Bucky eyed the two of them carefully. It had been a long time since he’d spent time with any other Companions and even though their manner was easy, he could not quite shake the uncomfortable feeling that seeing them without their collars was like seeing them naked. Bucky himself had opted to leave his collar on for the duration of their visit, although he took it off and put it back on as often as he liked when he was alone. Steve had even seen him without it, a few times, although Bucky still wasn’t sure how he felt about that. As odd as this seemed, this might be Bucky’s only chance to talk to other Companions, and these two seemed to be in a stable relationship, seemed… happy with their lives. Bucky plucked up his courage and took a deep breath. 

‘Uh, Pepper? Bruce? I gotta ask you guys… are you happy living here?’

Pepper pursed her lips, and Bruce raised one eyebrow as if to denounce the ridiculousness of Bucky’s question. 

‘Of course we’re happy. We wouldn’t be here otherwise.’ Bruce replied. The older Companion was large but somehow quiet and nervous. Bucky wondered if he’d always been that way or if something happened to make him wring his hand and constantly glance around the room as though it might hide enemies out to get him. 

‘Bucky, we love living here. We love Tony, he’s a great master and he love us. Are you… saying… that you are not happy with Lord Rogers?’ Pepper was one of the most perceptive people Bucky had encountered recently. 

‘No, that’s not what I’m saying, I just… I still feel kind of new, and Steve is… very different… from my last masters. Better. Steve is a lot better – nicer – than my other… masters.’

Pepper and Bruce shared a knowing look. Making her voice soft and low, Pepper asked, 

‘Did your old masters hurt you?’

Bucky looked down at his left arm. The evidence of his failure as a Companion was permanently scarred into him, but the long months with Steve had started to show him that perhaps it wasn’t entirely his fault.

‘I… yes. Sort of. I deserved it?’ he replied, still not sure what the other two thought of him.

‘No one deserves to be hurt, Bucky.’ Bruce leaned forward as he said that, looking directly into Bucky’s slate grey eyes with his own dark brown ones. He sounded so sincere that Bucky blushed a little. 

‘No, I… I guess not. I’m starting to see that, now.’

‘Does Steve ever hurt you?’ asked Bruce, still leaning forward.

‘No, never. Steve is… very kind to me.’ Bucky could not help but smile a little when he said that, thinking of the gifts of jewellery and peaches and blankets, the soft beds and the comfortable seats and the little red painted buggy so he never had to ride a horse. 

‘You love him.’ Pepper raised her brows and smiled at Bucky over the top of her teacup. 

‘I have no love for the masters.’ Bucky replied automatically.

‘But you love Steve.’

‘No. I… no. I don’t love him.’ Bucky was beginning to get confused. He’d heard of Companions falling in love with their masters, sure, but had always thought it just a product of the confinement and the gifts and the servitude. Owing your entire comfort and wellbeing to the person who owned you could make a Companion think they were in love… but that would never be him. Never. Of course he didn’t love Steve, of course not. Steve was fine, as far as Masters went, but he was still Bucky’s owner. 

‘Bucky. It’s ok to love him. I know it’s not the usual thing, I know that Masters are supposed to be all high and mighty and not let themselves fall in love with their Companions, but stranger things have happened. We love Tony after all, and he loves us. We’ve also known Lord Rogers for a long time, and we know he’s a good man. Young, perhaps, to have a Companion, but good. If you’re worried about him hurting you, I don’t think you have to. But…’ Here, Pepper and Bruce shared another one of their complicated looks, ‘If he does, hurt you I mean, there are things you can do.’

‘You can contact us, for a start. I know for a fact that if Tony finds out that Steve hurt you he’d be down on him like a ton of bricks. And there’s Natasha and Clint – the Avengers. They’ll help any Companion in distress, you know that.’

Everybody had heard the stories of the Avengers. They were ex-Companions who escaped cruel masters and now avenged the abuse of others. The Black Widow and Hawkeye, as they were known. Bucky had never heard them referred to by actual names before. 

‘The Avengers are criminals.’

‘They’re… friends.’

‘We can contact them for you, if Steve hurts you. I don’t think he ever would, but if you need us, we’re here for you.’

Bucky stared at the two Companions, nonplussed. Offering to help him? Casually mentioning that they knew the Avengers? Who the hell were these people? 

‘I’ll bear that in mind. Thank you. I’ve never… I’ve never met other Companions like you before.’

Pepper and Bruce shared another secret smile, but Bucky felt included in this one, as though being Companions made them all members of the same club. It was nice, belonging in another way than he did with Steve. 

Bruce poured out another cup of fragrant tea and passed it to Bucky, who sweetened it with more honey than was really necessary. Indulging his sweet tooth was a particular vice of his, and judging by the supply of pastries and candied peaches Steve kept giving him, it was one of Steve’s too. Bucky stirred his tea and thought about everything he’d seen in this unconventional castle. 

‘So do you… can I ask – do you two… sleep with… Tony?’

‘We do. Not always, and not always the three of us, but we are in love. We are true Companions in all senses of the word, and Tony is our lover.’

‘He fucks you.’ Bucky clarified.

Bruce smiled. ‘Sometimes it’s the other way around,’ he replied with another lift of the eyebrow. Bucky was a little astounded. Companions were supposed to service their masters, he’d never heard of one getting fucked before. 

‘That’s… ok. That’s ok.’

‘We know it’s ok. Like I said, we’re lovers. Not just in bed, in all aspects of our lives.’

‘How do you deal with it, then? Being a Companion, I mean. Because, on the one hand you say you’re in love but on the other, you still gotta serve him, right? And he still orders you around and punishes you when you’re bad and all that stuff?’

The next look that Pepper and Bruce shared was a little alarmed. Bruce opened his mouth, but closed it again and nodded at Pepper to continue. 

‘Our relationship is that of equals. It is a pleasure to serve Tony, but we don’t do it because we are his Companions. We do it because we love him, and he loves us. As for punishment, I don’t think Tony knows what that word means.’ Pepper giggled a little, before continuing in the tone of one sharing a big secret. 

‘Tony may be the Lord, but he’s helpless without us. Doesn’t even know the password to his own front door. He’d forget to eat if I didn’t remind him – remind you both,’ Pepper said with a fond roll of her eyes towards Bruce, who shrugged. 

‘What can I say, it’s easy to forget the time when you’re working with Tony. He’s too excitable.’

‘Bruce works with Tony when he’s inventing,’ Pepper explained, ‘and they both get so lost in their inventions – mechanised farm equipment and the like – that they forget about little things like sleeping and eating.’

Bucky felt like this conversation was just shock after shock. He was definitely not prepared for this. ‘You mean Tony forces you to work for him?’

‘No, no, Bucky – I love working with Tony. I offered to help him out one day a long time ago, Tony found out that I’d trained in medicine and we’ve never looked back. Now I help out at the apothecary once or twice a week as well as helping Tony with his inventions.’

Bucky could hardly believe his ears. It sounded like Tony let Bruce – actually encouraged Bruce – to pursue an interest outside of servitude. It was something he’d never encountered before. 

‘Do you think Steve would let me… help him out, sometimes?’

‘I think you’ve nothing to lose by asking.’ Bruce shrugged again and the smile on Pepper’s face was huge and genuinely warm. 

~~~~~

After that conversation, the rest of the day was a lot less shocking. Steve and Tony spent a lot of time holed up in Tony’s lab together with Bruce, leaving Bucky free to explore the Tower and the lands. Pepper showed him around Stark’s art gallery, explaining that she loved art and so Tony gave her the funds to purchase whatever pieces she wanted. Her collection was truly impressive, and she moved like she belonged, alike she was completely comfortable in the space. Bucky spent the day resting, drinking tea and getting to know Pepper a little better. She suggested an excursion to the town market, and Bucky was more than happy to go along. Pepper explained that she and Bruce did not have to ask permission from Tony to leave the Tower, which only shocked Bucky a little considering how liberal he’d found the rest of the household. It made him think of his role in Steve’s castle in contrast. Although Steve had never explicitly stated that Bucky had to ask permission for things like leaving and finding his own interests, he hadn’t protested when Bucky had done so either. Come to think of it, Steve had been happy to go along with whatever Bucky wanted for a while now, and had yet to deny him any request he’d come to him with. Bucky respected Steve enough to know what he would be allowed to get away with, and in return Steve did not impose any unfair rules on his Companion. 

Steve allowed Bucky to leave with Pepper, and did not insist upon them being chaperoned, as was common among masters. Steve even reminded Bucky of the purse of money Steve carried with him at all times and told him he could take it and buy whatever he wanted. For Steve, this was incredibly liberal, but somehow Bucky was not surprised. Browsing the market stalls, wrapped in a long demure length of silk which covered his body from head to toe as befitted a Companion out without their master, Bucky rolled the money between his fingers and thought about all the places he could go. There was enough money in there to buy passage to somewhere new and exciting, and without a guard, he could easily escape. He didn’t run, though he thought about it, and what stopped him was the memory of the reverent way Steve said his name and all the freedom he was allowed. If he was caught as a runaway Companion he could be thrown in jail and severely punished by the Academy, and Steve would be powerless to stop it. Maybe Steve wouldn’t even want to stop it, although he hadn’t shown any inclination towards punishment yet, there was time for a more sinister nature to reveal itself as it had with some previous masters. Instead of running, Bucky bought himself some beautiful star-shaped drops to hang in his ears and a matching circlet to fit on his arm, polished silver with a ruby cut in the shape of a star. They were beautiful, fine metalwork and high quality gems, and Bucky thought about the look on Steve’s face when he saw Bucky’s left arm without makeup and decided right there that he would do whatever it took to make Steve forget how damaged he was. He also saw a booth with a vendor selling painted and carved sea shells, and picked up a large clam shell painted an azure blue with red and white stars. It was as close to the colours of Lord Rogers’ crest as he could find, and he hoped that Steve would like it. it was the first thing he had bought for Steve, the first time he’d ever considered buying anything for Steve, and tucking it inside his belt made Bucky feel inexplicably tingly inside, like the anticipation of the first warm day in summer. 

When Bucky slid into bed with Steve that night, stiff and unsure of sharing a bed yet trusting Steve not to hurt him, he made Steve sit up, and pushed the shell into his hands. The look on Steve’s face was worth every penny he’d spent on the shell. Steve looked like he might cry, and Bucky wondered when the last time that someone did something nice for him was. Steve did all manner of nice things for Bucky, but as yet Bucky had thought of his own role as merely that of a servant in Steve’s house and not as someone who could actually make Steve happy. Bucky snuggled into the ridiculously comfortable bed, his back to Steve’s front, not quite touching but enough to feel the heat from Steve’s body, and mumbled, 

‘I like Pepper and Bruce. I don’t like spending the whole day without you.’

Bucky heard Steve sigh a little at that, and there was a movement like Steve was repositioning his hand, but the only reply he gave was to say thank you.  
Bucky could hardly keep his eyes open, and soon both of them were asleep. The next morning when they woke, Bucky was curled up in the middle of the bed with Steve wrapped around him like an extra blanket. Steve’s chest was plastered to Bucky’s back and Steve’s long thighs jutted into the back of Bucky’s knees, making him feel like he was a little ocean creature and Steve was his shell, keeping him safe from the predators which lurked in the dark. 

~~~~~

Steve wished that they could stay longer with Stark and his household, he really did. Especially since Bucky had blossomed since spending time with Bruce and Pepper, and he looked a lot less scared of Steve and other people in general after a few days in their company. Sadly though, after a week of Stark’s hospitality, the Iron Lord’s loud personality was starting to grate on Steve, and he knew it was time to go their separate ways before he snapped at his friend and said something unforgivably rude. He tried to tough it out for Bucky’s sake but he couldn’t hang on much longer. As their carriage rolled away from the Stark estate back towards home, Steve watched as Bucky twisted in his seat to see the last view of the Tower before it disappeared out of sight. 

It was early afternoon, the sun wavering lower into the sky as they crossed the border into the Shield Lands and Steve breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar hills and green fields. Bucky was dozing against him, arms wrapped around himself and legs drawn up onto the seat beside him so that his upper body leaned against Steve. It was a mark of how comfortable Bucky was around him that he allowed himself to nap with Steve around. A few months ago, Bucky would never have dropped his guard around another person like that. Steve thought back to the terrified man who’d been led into his hall all those months ago, shivering and underweight. That Bucky had been wary and suspicious, had insisted upon following some of the most old-fashioned Companion protocol Steve had ever come across, and had flinched at every loud noise. It was like two different people, thinking about him now. Bucky had a long way to go before Steve would consider him recovered from the abuse he’d clearly suffered, but a few large steps had been made. Bucky was no longer as afraid to speak his mind as he had been, and he was even comfortable giving his opinion and letting his emotions show on his face, which was a contrast to the mask-like exterior he’d rigidly held when he first arrived. Bucky now knew that he was allowed to dress and adorn himself however he liked instead of constantly wandering around half-naked and on display, and had taken to wearing many warm layers of clothing which gave him the appearance of some woolly creature growing its’ winter coat. Bucky tolerated some casual touches from Steve these days, although no-one else was allowed to touch him. He had even sought out Steve’s touch a few times, like leaning against him to fall asleep on a long coach journey. Sleeping in the same bed though, and letting Steve see him unadorned, was the biggest sign of trust from Bucky. Steve felt a little selfish for wishing that they could continue to share the same bed every night even once back home, but he knew he would respect his Companion’s space as long as he wished to sleep in his own bed. After being denied a bed for so long – and Steve shuddered at the memory of Bucky sleeping on the floor for the first week – who could blame him for wanting a whole bed to himself? 

That night, however, Bucky appeared in the doorway that joined their rooms, silent and wearing only a night shirt. Steve sat up in bed; his Companion hovered in the doorway like he wasn’t sure of his welcome. Opening the corner of the bed, Steve motioned for Bucky to join him, and Bucky wordlessly slid into bed beside him. There was a long moment of silence, during which Steve could feel the weight of the words that Bucky was trying to say. 

‘I like… being able to… talk to you in public. Without asking permission?’

Steve’s heart soared. ‘I’d like that too, Bucky. You don’t have to ask permission to speak, ever.’

‘Thank you, Steve. And – I don’t like… I don’t like…’ Bucky inhaled deeply, ‘… I don’t like you looking at my arm.’

Steve rustled around in the sheets and found Bucky’s hands. 

‘I promise you that I will never force you to show me any part of your body that you do not want to show me. I promise.’

‘Steve?’

‘Yeah, Buck?’

‘Could I ask something?’

‘Anything, you know that.’

‘Could I… I saw that Tony lets Pepper collect art and he lets Bruce practice medicine. Do you think that there’s something I could learn around the castle?’

Steve smiled at Bucky in the dim moonlight. 

‘You may do whatever you wish. Tomorrow, tell me what you wish to learn and I will make it happen.’

‘I will, Steve. Thank you.’

Steve let go of Bucky’s hands, meaning to give his Companion some space, but Bucky chased them back and pulled Steve’s hands into his own again. Something had changed in his Companion during their visit to Stark, Bucky seemed to be a little more willing to voice his opinion and his wants, and nothing made Steve happier. 

~~~~~

Bucky knew what he’d choose to learn. He’d had the idea in his head ever since seeing Steve and Sam sparring in the training courts as they did every morning. Bucky wanted to learn to fight, to defend himself from unwanted touches and silent attackers. It was not a normal thing, for a Companion to train in the fighting arts, but Steve had said that Bucky could learn anything, and he was curious to test the boundaries of his masters’ liberalness. He needn’t have worried, though. When Bucky woke the next morning with Steve’s head tucked below his collarbone and Steve’s warm thighs underneath his own, and blurted out that he wished to learn to fight, Steve merely smiled. A light danced in Steve’s eyes that Bucky had never seen before, alert and joyful and, perhaps… proud? It was a rare look. 

After breakfast, Steve set Bucky up with his training-master Dugan, affectionately called Dum-Dum by nearly everyone. Dum-Dum was a retired army officer and current leader of Steve’s castle guard. Phillips was old and tough and he clearly resented having to teach a Companion. Steve made it very clear to Dum-Dum that Bucky was not to be touched without his permission, nor was he to be treated too harshly. Steve himself watched the first few training sessions, and the pride in his eyes when Bucky began to come out of his shell and develop a knack for fighting made Bucky feel warm inside, the same feeling as when he’d given Steve the shell. 

Learning to fight turned out to be the best thing that Bucky ever did. As the months wore on, Bucky continued to train until he was the best in the castle. He possessed a natural talent with a blade or a bow or his fists that few could match, and his growing aptitude was only matched by his eagerness to learn new things. Eventually, in the early summer, Steve and Dum-Dum gave Bucky the responsibility of training the new recruits to the castle guard, mostly teenagers who had only ever fought off the foxes that threatened to steal their fathers’ hens. Bucky was especially gentle with the small and the shy ones, and was well-liked by most. His newly bulked-up figure stalking the training yard and whispering gentle encouragement in the ears of his recruits became a familiar sight around the castle, and even those few who questioned the wisdom in letting a Companion learn to fight grew used to it. 

Using up all his energy in the training yard made Bucky hungry and exhausted by evening. Stretching and using his muscles brought him a calm and satisfaction that he had not expected to find, and the camaraderie among soldiers helped him to develop his confidence. When he wasn’t training, Bucky was reading every book on military and martial strategy that Steve had in his library. Despite the long hours spent training and reading, Bucky always made sure to clean himself in the evenings before slipping back into his Companion clothes and going into the castle for dinner with Steve. He had taken out the majority of his body piercings, dangerous and painful when worn under armour, and grown larger and thick with muscle. He enjoyed being Steve’s Companion a lot more when he had something else in his life at the same time, and he knew that he owed his new-found happiness entirely to Steve. Besides, sometimes it was nice to feel small and cared for, to have Steve rub the knots out of his muscles and bring him hot tea after dinner. He was still Steve’s little peach in the privacy of their own bedroom, albeit a peach who now weighed more than Steve and snored loud enough to be heard through walls.

Training with Steve always made Bucky nervous. On the one hand, Steve was one of the best fighters in the land and it was natural for them to train together; on the other, Bucky could not entirely break his training which forced him to be timid and submissive around his master. When Bucky explained this to Steve after another sparring session in which Steve beat him easily despite Bucky being the better of the two, Steve looked thoughtful. Bucky had gotten better at speaking his mind in front of Steve now, having been his Companion for nearly two years and knowing that Steve valued and cherished the insights he provided. Bucky had even been asked to give his opinion on the tactical plans Steve and Dum-Dum had drawn up in case the castle were ever to be attacked. 

The big change in their dynamic came soon after Bucky had been Steve’s Companion for two years. He’d taken over the role of training-master when Dum-Dum retired, and was delighted and astonished to be paid a wage, soon amassing a bag full of gold coins that he’d earned himself. In the time he’d been with Steve he’d become more healthy and strong, his body filled out. He’d stopped the majority of his meticulous shaving rituals, and now only wore make-up and gilding on the days when he would be required to play the role of Lord Rogers’ Companion in public among new people. He had let the hair on his arms, legs, belly and groin grow out, and his face sported a short dark stubble that seemed to make Steve blush when he looked at it. Bucky loved the way the hair between his legs felt as it grew back; wiry and velvety and luxurious. He took to stroking it and even oiling it as he did the hair on his head, not because anyone else would ever see it but just because it felt nice to treat himself thus. His thatch of well-cared for body hair made him happy whenever he thought of it under his clothes, secret and unattractive and free and all his own. Bucky had even grown his hair a little longer so that he could tie it back out of his eyes while he was training. His arms became corded with tight muscles and his thighs became solid and thick. His waist hardened and he became a formidable opponent in the training yard. Bucky was happy, for the first time in a very long time, with his new life being Steve’s Companion and his training-master. He found that the proximity of Steve’s body when they grappled or when Steve rubbed his shoulders after a long day was doing strange things to his body. Of course Bucky knew what sexual arousal was, but he’d been used for sex for so long that he’d thought himself immune to all sexual thoughts about others. In the odd moments when he could see the pride in Steve’s face as he watched Bucky work, or when Steve would turn to him with the same sleepy smile each morning and call Bucky his little peach in his deep sleep-furred voice, Bucky’s body was paying attention, a little more each day as though he was waking up from a long hibernation. It was troubling, and he had no idea what to do about it, especially as Steve never gave any signal that he felt the same. Instead, Steve continued to behave as he had done to Bucky since he arrived; kind, respectful, not touching more than necessary, protective and thoughtful and polite, as he was with everyone. Bucky said nothing about his new feelings for Steve, caught between wanting more and thinking himself weak for being a Companion in love with his master. 

~~~~~

Steve was in love with Bucky. He knew it, had known it for a very long time. Bucky’s blossoming transformation from abused Companion into large, masculine training-master only made him more attractive to Steve, and the relaxation of their dynamic as master-and-Companion meant that these days, Bucky was more a friend than anything else. Steve was painfully conscious, though, that Bucky was a friend who he owned, and that meant he could never make any kind of sexual or romantic advance on the other man. Truthfully, though, Bucky’s new, thicker body was intoxicatingly beautiful to Steve, and the way he spoke his mind and walked with purpose were the sweetest gifts his not-so-little peach could ever give him. 

That Bucky still allowed Steve to take care of him, despite being more than able to fend for himself these days, was the last vestige of their previous dynamic. Steve loved caring for Bucky. He loved that his Companion would adore gifts of jewellery and throwing knives with equal happiness. He loved that Bucky would still snuggle up to him at night and make him tea in the mornings before they both headed off to train. He loved that sometimes, when Bucky was feeling exhausted, he’d allow himself to be wrapped in blankets and cuddled into Steve’s side, petted and fed and showered with compliments. Bucky was probably just humouring him though, Steve thought, and he knew that he had to do something drastic, had to give his Companion the greatest gift possible. His freedom. 

Steve had never become truly comfortable with the idea of owning a Companion, even after two years of knowing Bucky, and the thought that he was just the latest in a long line of Bucky’s owners was vile. Steve knew that if he died, Bucky would be sent back to the Academy where he’d be re-broken under Pierce’s thumb and re-trained to be a good little submissive before being sent off to another master who wouldn’t appreciate Bucky’s skills and his giggles and his autonomy for what they were, would instead see them as disobediences. 

Steve dug up Bucky’s original papers what he’d been handed when he’d first received his Companion all those years ago on his investiture day. Not telling Bucky what he was doing, Steve put his signature to the document which granted Bucky has freedom from all masters, and sent the papers off to be witnessed and registered with the Academy and the King. 

On the day they came back, Steve ripped open the mail parcel and did a little secret dance of delight in his hall. He asked Phil to call Bucky in from the training yard and went to sit in their bedroom, barely able to contain his excitement.  
When Bucky entered a few minutes later, still covered in sweat and dust from training, he looked worried. Silently he sat next to Steve on the couch and waited for Steve to speak. 

‘Buck, don’t look so worried. Nothing bad is about to happen. In fact, I… I just wanted to give you a gift.’

‘A gift? Stevie, you give me too much already. You’ll spoil me.’

‘Ah, but this gift is unusual. You can’t eat it or wear it or fight with it. You can’t sleep under it or use it to keep you warm.’

I’m intrigued – go on,’ replied Bucky with a tilt of his head that Steve could almost describe as flirty. 

He decided not to stretch it out any more. ‘It’s this,’ he said simply, before dropping the witnessed Seal of Freedom into Bucky’s lap. 

Bucky held the papers up and froze when he saw the transfer of ownership that Pierce had given him. He glared at Steve suspiciously before leafing through to get to the Seal of Freedom, signed by the King himself. When he saw it, Bucky gasped and almost threw the letters down at their feet. He lunged forward and hugged Steve tightly, more tightly than ever before, and Steve could hear the sound of muffled sobs. He hadn’t seen Bucky cry in nearly half a year and didn’t quite remember what to do, but Steve hugged Bucky back all the same. Bucky kept his arms loosely around Steve’s waist as his sobs subsided and he lapsed into exhausted silence. 

‘Do you really mean it, Stevie?’

‘Of course I do. You’re free, Buck – free to do whatever you wish. Of course you can stay here, but you can leave if you want to. You can do whatever you want.’

Bucky wiped his eyes. ‘I never – I didn’t think I’d ever get to…’ he trailed off, but Steve thought he knew what he was trying to say. 

‘You don’t have to decide now, Buck. As long as you wish to remain my training-master you are welcome to do so. There’s no rush.’

Those words made Steve’s heart hurt at the thought that Bucky would leave him one day, but he couldn’t be selfish, he couldn’t keep this wonderful, kind, beautiful, glowing man in servitude any longer. Bucky gathered the papers up from the floor, stroking the King’s seal reverently. He folded them up and pressed them to his stomach, his eyes closed. When Bucky opened his eyes they were grey and oddly sharp with unshed tears. 

‘Steve. I love working here, I do, but –’

‘I get it, Buck. You gotta go live your own life. I understand. To be honest with you, that’s what I thought would happen.’

‘You gonna get yourself another Companion now?’ Bucky looked wary and a little unsure.

‘Never. I will never own another Companion. You have my word on that.’ Steve answered vehemently. 

‘I dunno, Steve, you were an alright master, I guess.’ Bucky grinned.

‘And you were an acceptable Companion, I suppose.’ Steve grinned right back, relaxing into their teasing relationship.

‘As far as masters go, that is.’

‘Not your master anymore though.’

‘No. You’re not.’ Bucky looked at Steve out of the corner of his eye, a strange expression on his face. 

‘Am I – am I still your peach, though?’ Bucky’s voice trembled a little as he said that, looking down at his dirty hands.

‘For as long as you want to be,’ Steve replied, and took Bucky’s right hand in his left. As Bucky turned to stare at him with a helpless expression on his face, Steve smiled and brought Bucky’s hand up to gently kiss the back of it, never breaking eye contact. Bucky’s lips parted a little in surprise. It was the first time Steve had initiated a physical closeness like that, and it startled them both. Steve felt a twisting in his stomach as he looked away. 

‘How soon will you leave?’

Steve dropped Bucky’s hand and moved away from him. 

‘End of this week, if I can?’

‘You don’t have to ask my permission, Buck.’

‘Gonna have to get used to that a bit.’ Bucky laughed ruefully to himself, and Steve smiled at the sound.

~~~~~

 

Bucky couldn’t believe it – he was free! Heady thoughts swirled around his head – where he could go, what he could see – anything he wanted! The thought of leaving Steve tugged on his heart a little in a way he didn’t understand, but that was drowned out by the steady beat and call of all the places he’d never been and everything he hadn’t yet seen. Bucky had spent his life shuttling between masters and the Academy. He’d never had a place to call his own, or been able to do a job that he was able to pick. He’d never been able to wake up late, nap on a whim, cook himself as much food as he liked and stay awake and watch the stars because he felt like it. Of course, it was probable that Steve would let have let him do all of those things before, but the point was that now he didn’t have to ask permission. 

Late that night, after a day spent poring over maps in the library deciding where to go and celebrating his freedom with the guards, a lot of whom Bucky could now count as friends out of choice and not obligation, Bucky headed towards his bedroom. Wait, no – Steve’s bedroom. Their bedroom. They had only spent a handful of nights apart since their first visit to Stark Tower over a year ago, and more often than not the morning light would find the two of them wrapped up in each other’s’ arms. Bucky stopped outside their door, resting his forehead on the familiar wood of the frame and thinking back to all the nights he’d shared with Steve. When Bucky had first started sharing a bed with Steve he’d had intense nightmares of waking up trapped, pinned down and beaten and used. On those nights, he couldn’t bear to have anyone touching him and used to retreat to the safety of his own room and his own bed, sometimes locking the door behind him. Steve was always understanding of those nights, always let him have his own space. These days, the nightmares came less frequently, and Bucky had gotten used to stealing the warmth from Steve’s body for his own when he woke up chilled in the middle of the night. Steve had taken to sleeping completely covered, in a long night shirt and loose pants, something that must have been torture for him in the hot summer months but that he stubbornly insisted that he didn’t mind doing anyway. Bucky knew it was all for his benefit, as he was still not comfortable with being naked with another person, and he appreciated Steve all the more for it. 

Bucky rocked back and forth on his heels as he stood with his forehead and hands pressed to the door. He could almost feel the weight of the limited nights they had left together pressing on him. Leaving Steve was turning out to be harder than he’d ever thought that leaving a master could be, because somewhere in the last year of shared nights and early mornings, training and laughing and eating together, Bucky realised that Steve had turned from just-a-master into master-and-friend without him realising it. With a sigh, Bucky pushed open the door, knowing that Steve would have waited up for him. 

Sure enough, Steve was sitting up in bed with a pot of fragrant tea on the table next to him, sketching something in a small book which was dwarfed by his large hands. Steve looked up as Bucky came in, and his smiled lit up his tired face, making him look as young as the day they’d met. From the table behind him, Steve produced a second teacup and flourished it at Bucky.

‘There’s my peach. Hurry up, I’ve got your favourite brew on the go.’

Steve’s smile wobbled just the barest amount as Bucky grabbed his nightclothes and rushed to change in his room. Without hesitation, he washed off the remnants of the makeup that he always wore, because no matter how much he thought of himself as Steve’s guard captain and training master, he was always a Companion first, and there were some things that respectable Companions didn’t give up. Bucky thought he might even go into battle with his face perfectly made up, and defeat his enemies without even smudging his eyeliner. The Warrior Companion, he liked the sound of that. Perhaps he could teach other Companions to defend themselves while he travelled? 

Make-up and adornments shed, and nightshirt fastened tightly at his wrists and collar, Bucky stepped back into their bedroom. During the time he’d been gone, Steve had managed to bank the fire so that the embers spat and crackled as they settled down. Bucky, although he’d gotten a lot better since no-one threatened to burn him if he was bad, still did not like handling fire, and so it had become one of their routines that Steve sorted out the fire and blew out the candles at night, then got up first to light them in the morning. It was non-traditional, a Lord lighting his own fire, but Steve refused to call a servant out of bed extra early just to do something that he was capable of doing himself. Besides, Bucky trusted Steve around fire but was still a little wary whenever he crossed someone else carrying the embers from room to room to spread on each hearth in the mornings. 

Bucky fussed with the blankets as Steve poured him a cup of tea and passed it over. Once they were both comfortable and leaning back against pillows fluffed the perfect amount to support Bucky’s bad left shoulder and arm, a heavy silence descended. Bucky and Steve were usually very comfortable around each other, but today, no longer master and Companion but suddenly equals, their dynamic felt… odd. Steve was the first one to break the tense silence. 

‘You, uh, you know you don’t have to sleep here if you don’t want to, Buck.’

‘That your way of saying you don’t want me here anymore?’ Bucky teased, although with an undercurrent of real nerves. What if this whole thing was Steve trying to get rid of Bucky for good? 

‘Not at all. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do something just to keep me happy.’

‘Stevie, you’ve never forced me to sleep here with you, even when I was your Companion. I’ve always chosen to be here, why would that change now?’

‘Oh. No reason, I just…’

‘You were just being a worry-wart, eh? Same old Stevie.’

‘Shut up jerk.’

‘Takes one to know one, punk.’

They smiled at each other. It was a mark of just how far their dynamic had changed these days that Bucky and Steve could tease each other like this, call each other names and give each other shit an know that it was just between them and it was all friendly. Steve never tried to use his rank and influence to silence Bucky, and in return Bucky gave as good as he got while always making sure to let Steve know how much he appreciated not being treated like he was made of glass. The silence as they drank the rest of their scented tea was peaceful and a lot less fraught than before. As they lay down to sleep, Bucky arranging himself so that Steve could wrap him up in his arms, recognised the feeling of safety that he always felt around Steve, but today twined with a wistfulness and longing that he wasn’t used to. It was like feeling lonely, even as he was being spooned by his best friend. 

The feeling only grew that week as the date of Bucky’s leaving came closer and closer. It was like he was melting away even though he was still physically present in the castle, slowly becoming a ghost with the face of Bucky. The last night that he and Steve shared together was tense and painfully awkward. Steve seemed to be on the verge of saying something so many times, but he never plucked up the courage. For his part, Bucky had no idea how to say goodbye to a friend. It wasn’t something he’d ever had to do before. Steve gifted him all the jewellery he’d amassed in his time as a Companion, begging Bucky to take it with him so he could sell it if he needed money. Steve was insistent that he’d never own another Companion and so said he had no need of it, but Bucky argued that it was bulky and heavy and would slow him down. Then, as they were dropping off to sleep, Steve reached around and took Bucky’s left hand in his. Slowly, he brought it up to his lips and kissed it in a repeat of the gesture they’d shared on the day Bucky had been given his freedom. There were tears in Steve’s eyes as he whispered, 

‘You’re my best friend, Buck. You’re always welcome back here, my doors will never be closed to you. Just know that. And – if you get into trouble, I’ll always be there to help you out however I can. All you need do is write me and I’ll be there, I promise.’

Steve’s voice shook and the tears spilled over in his eyes as Bucky brought their joined hands up to his mouth and kissed the back of Steve’s hand, tanned calloused skin feeling tingly under his lips. 

‘I won’t forget you, Steve. I know that everything I have today is because of your kindness-’

‘No! Bucky, it’s all you. You deserve everything you have and so much more-’

‘Steve, I’m trying to tell you that you’re my best friend too. You have been for a long time. And… I promise you that I will come back to you. One day. Can’t say when, but I will come back, I swear.’

‘I’ll wait for you.’

Nothing more needed to be said. Bucky and Steve fell asleep hand in hand, and by the time Steve woke in the morning, Bucky was gone, leaving his bronze-and-gold collar lying on his pillow.

~~~~~

Steve woke to an empty, cold bedchamber and a heavy head. The emotions of the day before caught up with him and all he wanted to do was burrow into Bucky’s arms and cry. That was the one thing he couldn’t do, as Bucky had left the castle at first light. Steve knew that he loved Bucky, and that Bucky was gone but that he would come back, and nothing else mattered.

The years stretched on, and Bucky didn’t return. Steve continued to rule the Shield Lands with a fair head and a steady hand, and his people became prosperous thanks to several good harvests. Steve carried out all the duties expected of him, but his heart wasn’t in it. Bucky’s room had been cleared out as soon as he’d left, Steve not wanting such a maudlin reminder of the love of his life that he’d lost, but he kept one of Bucky’s favourite pillows in his bed for as long as the scent of the other man remained. Even after the pillow had long since stopped smelling of Bucky, even though years had passed, Steve wouldn’t let it be removed from his bed. The weight of his love for Bucky was a stone which grazed his chest every time he breathed, and made it hard to sleep at night. What a fool he was, to fall in love with someone who could never love him back. Bucky had made his thoughts on love between masters and Companions very clear – it wasn’t for him. Long years of abuse had soured any hope of connecting with his master that way, and he could not understand it. Still, Steve had foolishly hoped that once free, Bucky would declare his love for Steve and stay with him forever. It was a stupid, childish hope which shrank smaller and smaller with each passing year that Bucky did not return. After ten long years of no Bucky, Steve had almost, but not quite, given up on waiting. He was no longer a young man, approaching his mid-thirties, and pining for a love lost over a decade ago was making him retreat into himself when he should be enjoying the company of friends. After ten long years of waiting and hoping, Bucky still did not re-appear. 

~~~~~

It had been ten years since Bucky had set foot in the Shield Lands, and if he was honest with himself he didn’t know why he was heading this way. Something in the air called him back to the only place he’d ever called home, the same invisible force that once upon a time had pushed him away from those lands and that castle. That man. 

In the decade he’d been gone, Bucky had explored everything he’d always wished he could. He’d slept at the side of the road and woke up cold and wet, travelled to the borders of the land and swum in the sea, seen the marvels of the capital and smiled at the taste of peaches grown in the Shield Lands when he’d been able to buy one. He’d been a farm hand, a mercenary, a guard, a sailor. He’d even joined the Avengers for a short while, having his first experience of vengeance with Clint and Natasha after Pepper managed to put them in touch. In all that time, he hadn’t written a single letter to Steve, tried not to think about Steve. He couldn’t – it was too hard. He hadn’t been able to say goodbye and now, as Bucky crossed the border into the Shield Lands and started on the main road to the castle, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to say hello either. He had hurt Steve, he knew that much. He’d been a coward, too, running away from feelings which scared him almost more than Lord Pierce ever had. It was Bucky’s opinion that a Companion in love with his master was a trapped prisoner in love with his jailer, but a free man pining after his best friend for ten years? Well – that might just be something worth fighting for. As he trudged along the dusty road and caught the scent of fruit orchards and peach tree blossom, Bucky’s memories of Steve overwhelmed him. Steve feeding him peaches, Steve watching his try them for the first time, juice running down both of their chins as they laughed at one another, Steve wiping peach juice off his face with a careful hand. Steve smiling, Steve protecting, Steve, Steve, Steve. The light winds that blew through the trees seemed to be pushing him in the direction of the castle. The direction of home. 

The sun was high overhead when Bucky approached the castle gate. Unfamiliar guards stopped him, but when he gave his name they stepped back with a slight look of awe on their faces, and Bucky passed into the castle for the first time in a decade.  
Some things had changed. The faces were new, the paintings and tapestries on the wall were different and the castle was quieter than he remembered. Some things were the same though. Bucky was greeted by an enthusiastic Phil Coulson, looking a little older and greyer than before, but still as warm and smiley. Phil was beyond excited when Bucky nervously asked if Steve was around, and took him at once to the small library where Bucky had once spent hours poring over books and maps. 

Bucky went in alone. He could hear shuffling and the dry sounds of books being leaved through coming from within the stacks, but could not see anyone. Silently he followed the sounds, suddenly more nervous than ever. His first glimpse of Steve took his breath away and made his heart beat in his chest. Steve’s back was to him, body stretched out as he reached for a book on a high shelf. His sandy blond hair was short but cut in a more modern style than when he’d last seen him, swept back on top and cropped at the sides. He too looked a little older, but if anything he had become even bigger than he’d been in his twenties. His arms looked the same, muscles bulging from their sleeves and freckles dotting the length. He was just as beautiful as Bucky remembered, and tears sprang into his eyes. He must have made a sound then, because Steve turned and gasped when he saw who was looking at him. 

~~~~~

A tiny sniff from behind him was all the warning Steve had before… Bucky was there. At first Steve couldn’t believe his eyes. After all, he’d dreamed of Bucky’s return for so long that he could almost convince himself that this was just one more hallucination. When the mirage didn’t disappear, however, Steve realised with a gasp that this was the real deal, Bucky standing before him dressed in rumpled travelling clothes and running a nervous hand through his hair. He looked older, warier, but at the same time, lighter. There were no adornments or marks of Bucky’s former life – he’d taken out all of his piercings and his clothes were now of low quality. His left arm, which he’d been so sensitive about, was on display under rolled-up sleeves. Steve stared at it for split second before striding towards Bucky and pulling him into a tight hug. He could not stop himself from sobbing into Bucky’s shoulder and he felt wetness on his own from Bucky’s tears. Bucky looked so vibrant, so _alive_ , and so, so beautiful. All the emotions Steve had kept under wraps for the past ten years bubbled out of him, and he sobbed without reserve while Bucky held him and petted his hair and told him everything was going to be alright. 

That night, after Bucky had had a long wash and a nap and a good meal during which the two of them made stiff small talk about Bucky’s life in the last decade and all the changes to the castle, the two of them retired to Steve’s room.

Bucky seemed twitchy when Steve sat on the bed and motioned him over. After his big meltdown on seeing Bucky for the first time, Steve now felt that he had no idea how to verbalise the enormity of what it meant to him that Bucky was back, and how he could possibly ask if Bucky felt the same. 

‘Would you like your old room back, Buck? I can have a bed made up for you. Or. You can go. Elsewhere. If you’d like?’

‘Steve, I was thinking, that I… well, could I possibly… sleep here with you again? Only if you want that, of course.’

‘Sure, Buck. That’s fine.’ 

They got ready for bed in silence, each with their backs turned, and Bucky changed in his old room just like old times. Steve made them both tea and stamped out the fire, and they each sat on the same side of the bed they always had. The silence was smothering.  
Eventually, Steve’s pain and morbid curiosity got the better of him. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he hadn’t heard from Bucky in so long, hadn’t even had a letter, until it burned him up. 

‘Why didn’t you write me?’ he asked at last.

‘I didn’t know if you’d want to hear from me,’ came the quiet reply. 

‘Buck, you gotta know how much I missed you. Every damn day. I’d have loved to hear from you. I thought maybe you wanted to keep in touch with me too.’

‘I did! Stevie, I wanted to write to you so many times but I just didn’t know how to say that I… didn’t know what you’d want to hear, is all.’

Steve breathed out very slowly. Suddenly the air in the room glittered with tension.

‘Well, now you know that I’m here and I’m listening, what would you have told me if you’d written to me?’

Steve leaned a little closer to Bucky, who responded by wrapping a hand around Steve’s bicep.

‘I’d tell you how much I missed you. But you already know that.’

‘I do now.’

‘And… I’d tell you how much I wanted to have you in my life again.’

‘I want that too.’

Bucky looked down at his lap, leaving one hand wound around Steve’s arm. 

‘I’d tell you that I’ve fallen in love with you,’ Bucky whispered, almost inaudibly.

‘Bucky. You… love me?’

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, leaving Steve dumbstruck. 

‘But… but… I thought you always said love was a jail sentence?’

‘I was wrong. I’d only known abuse, never true love. But, Steve, I loved you then and I… I still love you now. If you… if you wanted to know… that’s what I’d write to you.’

Steve’s heart swelled and he thought he might cry again. Bucky loved him? This was everything he’d wanted for so long, he was almost afraid it was all a dream. 

‘Bucky, peaches, look at me.’

Bucky turned his face to Steve, bottom lip trembling with held-back emotion. Steve searched his face but he could see no shred of insincerity or doubt. With a small gasp, Steve realised that he could have what he’d always wanted – a loving partner. 

‘I love you too Bucky. My sweet peach, of course I love you. I’ve loved you for so long.’

They fell into one another’s arms, kissing and holding and exploring each other. There was a lot of learning to do, and a few astonished, fumbling moments before both men were twined around each other, one of Steve’s legs in between Bucky’s deliciously thick thighs and both of Bucky’s arms wrapped around Steve’s back with his hands stroking Steve’s spine. They kissed like there wasn’t enough air in the room, like it was the last moment of life on earth, frantic and passionate and loving. Soon they were both panting and flushed, and Steve felt like he would explode with love for Bucky. He pulled back from the kiss long enough to take Bucky’s face in his hands and ask, 

‘Does this mean you’re staying?’

‘Yes. For as long as you want me to.’

‘Bucky, I’ll always want you to stay.’

They went back to kissing, and spent almost the whole night together. Steve was allowed to see Bucky’s body truly naked for the first time, and felt honoured to be allowed to press kisses into his stomach and chest. Bucky still refused to engage in any sexual activity, but did allow Steve to hold him and snuggle up to his body as much as he liked. For his part, Steve had Bucky back in his arms and had no intention of letting go, because Bucky was a free man and he was choosing to stay here with him. They spent the night whispering words of love into each other’s skin, and in the morning fell asleep only moments after dawn crept into the room. 

~~~~~

From then on, Bucky and Steve were inseparable. Bucky moved back into Steve’s room and the two of them fell more and more deeply in love every day. Of course, life was not perfect. Bucky worried that his inability to engage in sexual activity would drive Steve away, and Steve worried that he was smothering Bucky and that he’d fall back into thinking of him as his master. Once they’d had a few rows and Bucky had set him straight in a way he’d never dared to before, though, Steve was reassured. He never pressured Bucky for sex, content just to hold him and love him romantically. Bucky craved physical affection and Steve’s comforting presence most of the time, and Steve loved to have Bucky tucked into his side while he doted on his love. They remembered how to love each other in all the ways they both secretly had before. Steve remembered how much Bucky loved to be wrapped in blankets and fed sweet fruit, and Bucky slowly remembered how much Steve needed to be held and comforted and supported when he got low. There were new ways, as well. Bucky was fiercely protective of Steve and became used to acting as his personal bodyguard, not leaving Steve’s side when he had to fight or travel away from home. In turn, Steve reached out to Bucky’s friends in the Avengers and offered them a place to stay in the castle whenever they were in the area. Sometimes, Bucky would leave with them for a few days and come back with a grim smile on his face, and Steve knew he was still invested in making cruel masters pay for their crimes against powerless Companions. After one such excursion a year after he’d returned, Bucky came back to the castle with a pair of young children following him, twins named Wanda and Pietro. Bucky spoke to them in their smooth language and explained to Steve that they had been brought up by a Companion and her master who did not love them. Their mother had died and the twins needed a way out, so Bucky, Clint and Natasha liberated them and brought them to Steve. Steve was more than happy to adopt the twins, and promised to apply for their Seals of Freedom as soon as possible. 

Wanda and Pietro grew into adulthood, and Bucky carried on bringing the occasional traumatised Companion back home after his Avengers missions. Steve and Bucky cared for all of them, nursing them back to health and helping them understand that they were in no danger, before signing into freedom those who wanted it, and finding kind masters for those who wanted to carry on being Companions. They became known as a safe haven for all sorts of abused peoples, not just Companions, and Bucky and Steve became the proud Godfathers of a generation of free-born babies. Years later, Bucky and Steve married in a lavish ceremony to which all the gentry in the land except Lord Pierce and all of Bucky’s former masters were invited, and the two husbands lived their days in the castle, together, and happy, and in love.

**Author's Note:**

> Fic summary:
> 
> Set in a Medieval AU, Lord Steve Rogers is given a Companion as a gift on the day of his knighthood. A Companion in this fic means somewhere between a servant and a submissive/ slave. Bucky is Steve's "gift" and it becomes clear that his previous masters have abused him. While being Steve's Companion, Bucky recovers from his abuse to the best he can and eventually is granted his freedom. He leaves Steve to travel the Kingdom but returns years later after realising he has fallen in love with Steve. Steve has also fallen in love with Bucky but had hidden his feelings, knowing that Bucky's past abuse would make their relationship unhealthy while Bucky is still a Companion. However, once free and after living on his own for years, Bucky and Steve finally get together, fall in love and get married. 
> 
> Warning summary:
> 
> Discussion of past rape. Discussion of past abuse. Past abuse includes starvation, humiliation and rape. 
> 
> If you want more detail or you would like to talk about this fic, other fic I wrote or life in general please come and see me on my Tumblr, my page is [Kateyfish](http://kateyfish.tumblr.com/)


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